He paused, and Honor nodded slowly, fingers gentle on Nimitz's ears.
"And shooting admirals lets them put their own people in command positions when they start doing. that," she murmured.
"Precisely. It means they'll have reliable fleet commandersofficers who owe their new positions solely to the committee's patronagewhen they get back around to us, as well." White Haven shrugged. "It's costing them in terms of experience, at least in the short run. For your private informationand this is classified data, Dame Honorseveral of their better flag officers have fled the Republic. Some have even come over to us, and, according to them, their Navy had nothing to do with the Harris assassination. For myself, I'm inclined to believe them, which, in turn, raises some very interesting questions about Mr. Pierre and his fellows, particularly in light of how quickly they moved to prevent a 'military coup.'
"But the key point is that until what's happening becomes so obvious no one can dispute it, the members of our own factions are free to assume whatever best suits their own prejudices. To be completely honest, that's probably true of myself and Duke Cromarty, as well, but Cromarty doesn't have the luxury of debating Havenite affairs over brandy at his club. He has to act in the real world, and that, I'm afraid, is where you come in."
"Me, Sir?" Honor was frowning, but in concentration now, not frustration. White Haven's frankness had soothed away her anger, and listening to his analysis was like hearing a fleet commander laying out her units' missions and ops plans.
"You. Raoul Courvosier once told me you dislike politics, Dame Honor. I wish he were here to explain this to you himself, but he's not, and this time you're in them right up to your neck."
Honor felt a familiar pain at the reminder of Admiral Courvosier's death, but there was something else under the hurt. She'd never imagined that Courvosier had discussed her with anyone else, especially not to the extent that remark suggested. Her surprise showed, and White Haven smiled sadly.
"Raoul and I were close friends, Dame Honor, and he always considered you one of his most outstanding students. As a matter of fact, he once told me he regarded you as the daughter he'd never had. He was extremely proud of you, and I don't think he'd be disappointedor surprisedby how amply you've justified his confidence."
Honor blinked on sudden tears. Courvosier had never told her that. He wouldn't have, of course, yet the bitterest hurt when she'd lost him in Yeltsin had been her deep, undying regret that she'd never told him how much he meant to her, either. But if that was truly how he'd seen her, perhaps it meant he'd already known. That he'd always known.
"Thank you, Sir," she said finally, her voice husky. "For telling me that. The Admiral meant a great deal to me, too."
"I know he did," White Haven said quietly, "and I wish with all my heart that he were here today. But the point at hand, Captain, is that whether you like politics or not, this time you have to play by the politicos' rules."
"Yes, Sir." Honor cleared her throat and nodded. "I understand, Sir. Just tell me what you want me to do."
White Haven smiled his approval and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees.
"At the moment, the Opposition parties, each for its own reasons, want to leave Haven to its own devices. They've chosen to endorse the analysts who believe the Peeps are genuinely trying to reform themselvesor at least that they'll self-destruct if we refuse to provide a foreign threat for them to rally against. That's an attractive proposition. In fact, it's downright seductive. Unfortunately, I believe, as does Duke Cromarty, that it's the wrong proposition. That we have to hit them now, while they're still divided and before their Committee of Public Safety fully consolidates its power.
"The Opposition disagrees, which is the reason so many disparate political groups have rallied to Young's defense. They're looking for anything to tie up the Lords and avoid a declaration of war until Haven collapses. The notion that Young's court-martial was politically motivated is bullshit, but it's highly emotional bullshit, and politics is a game of perceptions. They know that, and they're using the uproar over the verdict to paralyze substantive action on any other issue. Unfortunately, in order to defend Young, they have to attack you, and, quite frankly, your record gives many of them more than sufficient reasonby their lights, at leastto want your scalp."
"So you want me out of reach of the media," Honor said flatly.
"Exactly, Dame Honor. I know you've been avoiding interviews, but the newsies aren't going to give up as long as the Opposition keeps the issue alive. In a way, the fact that you've been essentially sequestered aboard Nike actually plays into the Oppositions hands. They can speculate on what you've got to hide, why you don't want to meet the media and 'present your side,' but if you do make yourself available, you give them the opportunity to twist whatever you say to suit their own purposes."
"But won't sending me to Grayson only make that even worse, Sir? I mean, won't it look like I'm running away?"
"It may. On the other hand, you're also Steadholder Harrington."
He paused again, cocking an eyebrow, and Honor nodded. White Haven had been present when Benjamin Mayhew named her to the position.
"You and I know Protector Benjamin understood when he asked you to assume the office that your duties as a naval officer would limit your ability to be physically present on Grayson," the admiral continued. "The Protector has been in touch with Duke Cromarty, however, and he's officially requested permission to summon you to attend the Conclave of Steadholders, which convenes on Grayson in three weeks. I'm sure Her Majesty would give you special leave to attend in any event, but under the present circumstances the opportunity is heaven-sent. It's an incontestably genuine request for your presence from an allied head of state to whom you owe personal fealty and in whose system a decisive battle just took place. If the Opposition's spokesmen try to make it look like some sort of retreat on your part, the Government will crucify them."
"I see." Honor was nodding once more, her eyes thoughtful. It was neat, she thought, and the fact was that she really ought to have returned to Grayson for a visit already, much as the idea secretly terrified her. She'd done her best to stay abreast of events in "her" steading and paid careful attention to all the proclamations and appointments she'd approved on her regent's recommendation, but she had no desire to be any more of an absentee noble than she could avoid. Besides, it was her responsibility to know what she was doing... and she didn't. Not really.
"I thought you'd understand." White Haven didn't try to hide his approval. "Actually, there's another advantage to the timing, as well, though."
"Another advantage, Sir?"
"Yes. Her Majesty has called to Duke Cromarty's attention the fact that you've never formally taken your seat in the House of Lords."
"Well, yes, Sir, I know. But" Honor paused, unable to express her own ambivalent feelings. She was a member of the Manticoran peerage, but she'd never been fully comfortable with the idea, particularly when her only real claim to that status was her Grayson title. No Manticoran had ever before been seated in the Lords on the basis of foreign holdings, and she'd been more than pleased to let things slide for as long as the Crown was prepared to forget about seating her there.