"Has the senior Grayson officer arrived?"
"Ah, no. No, he hasn't." She looked sharply at him, and he started to say something else, then shut his mouth, pressed an admittance key, and waved her through the opening door into a conference room. Two other people were waiting for her. One was a commander in the blue-on-blue of Grayson's Navy, the other was the Honorable Reginald Houseman.
"Captain Harrington, this is Commander Brentworth," Langtry said by way of introduction. "Mr. Houseman you know, of course."
Honor nodded to Houseman and extended her hand to the commander. She might as well test his reaction now, she thought, and felt a slight surprise as he took it without hesitation. There was discomfort in his eyes, but for a change it didn't seem to be directed at her. Or not directly at her, anyway.
"Commander Brentworth will be your liaison to the Grayson Navy," Langtry went on, and there was an odd note in his voice.
"Welcome aboard, Commander." Brentworth nodded, but his discomfort seemed to sharpen. "I'd hoped your senior officer would already be here," Honor went on, "since I don't believe we can accomplish much until I've had a chance to speak with him and coordinate our planning."
Brentworth started to speak, but Langtry cut him off with a curiously compassionate gesture.
"I'm afraid Admiral Garret isn't coming, Captain," the ambassador answered for Brentworth, and his voice was flat. "He feels his time is better spent monitoring the situation from Command Central. He's charged Commander Brentworth with your instructions under his current deployment plan."
Honor stared at him, then looked at Brentworth. The Grayson was beet-red, and now she recognized the discomfort in his eyes. It was shame.
"I'm afraid that's not acceptable, Sir Anthony." She was surprised by the steel in her own voice. "Admiral Garret may be a fine officer, but he can't possibly have a full understanding of my ships' capabilities. As such, he can't know how to wring the fullest advantage from them." She looked at Brentworth. "With all due respect, Commander, my assessment of the situation is that your navy simply doesn't begin to have the capacity to defeat this threat."
"Captain, I" Brentworth began, then stopped, his face redder than ever, and Honor took pity on him.
"I understand your position, Commander Brentworth," she said more quietly. "Please don't consider anything I've just said a criticism of you."
The Grayson officer's humiliation actually grew at her understanding tone, but there was gratitude in his expression, as well.
"Very well, Sir Anthony." Honor returned her attention to Langtry. "We're just going to have to change Admiral Garrett's mind. I must have full access and cooperation to defend this planet, and"
"Just a moment, Captain!" Houseman's interrupting voice was strained, almost strident, unlike the polished enunciation whose edge of smug superiority Honor remembered so well, and he leaned forward over the conference table.
"I don't think you understand the situation, Captain Harrington. Your primary responsibility is to the Star Kingdom of Manticore, not this planet, and as Her Majesty's representative, it's my duty to point out that the protection of her subjects must take precedence over any other consideration."
"I fully intend to protect Her Majesty's subjects, Mr. Houseman." Honor knew her personal dislike was coloring her voice, but she couldn't help it. "The best way to do that, however, is to protect the entire planet, not just the part of it Manticorans happen to be standing on!"
"Don't you take that tone with me, Captain! With Admiral Courvosier's death, I am the senior member of the delegation to Grayson. I'll thank you to bear that in mind and attend to my instructions!"
"I see." Honor's eyes were hard. "And what might those `instructions' be, Mr. Houseman?"
"Why, to evacuate, of course!" Houseman looked at her as if she were one of his slower students at Mannheim University. "I want you to begin immediate planning for an orderly and expeditious evacuation of all Manticoran subjects aboard your ships and the freighters still in orbit."
"And the rest of the Grayson population, Mr. Houseman?" Honor asked softly. "Am I to evacuate all of them as well?"
"Of course not!" Houseman's jowls reddened. "And I won't remind you again about your impertinence, Captain Harrington! The Grayson population isn't your responsibilityour subjects are!"
"So my instructions are to abandon them." Honor's voice was flat, without any inflection at all.
"I'm very sorry for the situation they face." Houseman's eyes fell from her hard gaze, but he plowed on stubbornly. "I'm very sorry," he repeated, "but this situation is not of our making. Under the circumstances, our first concern must be the safety and protection of our own people."
"Including yourself."
Houseman's head jerked back up at the bottomless, icy contempt in that soft soprano voice. He recoiled for just a second, then slammed a fist on the conference table and yanked himself erect.
"I've warned you for the last time, Captain! You watch your tongue when you speak to me, or I'll have you broken! My concern is solely for my responsibilitiesresponsibilities I recognize, even if you don'tas custodian of Her Majesty's interests in Yeltsin!"
"I was under the impression we had an ambassador to look after Her Majesty's interests," Honor shot back, and Langtry stepped closer to her.
"So we do, Captain." His voice was cold, and he looked much less like an ambassador and much more like a colonel as he glared at Houseman. "Mr. Houseman may represent Her Majesty's Government for purposes of Admiral Courvosier's mission here, but I represent Her Majesty's continuing interests."
"Do you feel I should use my squadron to evacuate Manticoran subjects from the line of fire, Sir?" Honor asked, never taking her eyes from Houseman's, and the economist's face contorted with rage as Langtry answered.
"I do not, Captain. Obviously it would be wise to evacuate as many dependents and noncombatants as possible aboard the freighters still available, but in my opinion your squadron will be best employed protecting Grayson. If you wish, I'll put that in writing."
"Damn you!" Houseman shouted. "Don't you split legal hairs with me, Langtry! If I have to, I'll have you removed from Foreign Office service at the same time I have her court-martialed!"
"You're welcome to try." Langtry snorted contemptuously.
Houseman swelled with fury, and the corner of Honor's mouth twitched as her own rage raced to meet his. After all his cultured contempt for the military, all his smug assumption of his own superior place in the scheme of things, all he could think of now was to order that same despised military to save his precious skin! The polished, sophisticated surface had cracked, and behind it was an ugly, personal cowardice Honor was supremely ill-equipped to understand, much less sympathize with.
He gathered himself to lash back at Langtry, and she felt the Grayson officer standing mutely to one side. It shamed her to know what he was seeing and hearing, and under all her shame and anger was the raw, bleeding loss of the Admiral's death and her own responsibility for it. This manthis worm was not going to throw away everything the Admiral had worked and, yes, died for!