“I can see that,” Honor said. “She’s a historian, too.”
“Quite a bit of that going around lately…thank God,” Hamish put in.
“Probably.” Elizabeth nodded. “And I can understand why it’s so important to her to fully establish—reestablish—the rule of law in Nouveau Paris. She and Tom Theisman and all the others paid cash for that, and she’s not going to let anyone—even, or especially, herself—establish any fresh ‘president-for-life’ precedents.”
“Good for her,” Honor said.
“Like I say, from her perspective I understand entirely. From my perspective, though, it sucks wind,” Elizabeth said frankly. She grimaced. “I have such a great relationship with her!”
She paused for a moment, eyes distant, as if considering what she’d just said, then shook her head.
“I really do have a great relationship with her,” she said almost wonderingly. “Never would’ve seen that coming, but it’s true. And that—” her gaze sharpened once again”—is why I don’t feel anything like confident about the chance of establishing an equally good relationship with whoever succeeds her.”
Honor nodded thoughtfully, and Elizabeth shrugged.
“So, what she and I are going to do in…oh, a T-year or so, is to propose a sort of…federated association, I suppose you’d call it, between Manticore and Haven. We’re still at an early enough stage no one’s come up with anything to call it yet, but basically, we’d amend both constitutions to grant reciprocal citizenship.”
“‘Reciprocal citizenship’?” Honor repeated.
“In essence, any citizen of the Republic would be a citizen of the Star Empire, and any citizen of the Star Empire would be a citizen of the Republic. Where they voted and where they paid taxes would depend upon the star nation in which they currently resided.” Elizabeth smiled as Honor’s eyes widened. “Oh, it’ll be more complicated than that, I’m sure, but that’s the basic platform we’re after. We’ll be looking at building deliberate economic ties, as well, and of course Havenite businesses and individuals will get the same Junction rates as Manticorans do. As I say, I’ve talked about it with Benjamin a bit, too. Grayson intends to stay independent, for reasons I fully understand, but he’s inclined to think the Graysons may be ready for the same kind of relationship by the time Eloise and I actually have all the bits and pieces glued into place.”
“Um.” Honor frowned in thought, then glanced at Hamish. There seemed to be a certain flicker of amusement deep in his blue eyes, but he only looked back with a solemn shrug.
“It sounds like it ought to be workable,” she said to Elizabeth then. “I’d be more confident if history wasn’t littered with things that ‘ought’ to have worked. But with a pair like you and Eloise driving it, I don’t doubt the legal framework can at least be created and put into place. Making it actually work has a lot of potential to get…complicated, though, I’d think.”
“I agree,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “On the other hand, there are some things we can already put into place to help build the relationship we’ll need when the time comes. In fact, I’d planned to discuss this with you sometime in the next month or so.”
“Did you?” Honor said, and there was no mistaking the suspicion in her tone—or her eyes—this time as she sampled Elizabeth’s mind-glow.
“Well, I wasn’t going to cram it at you,” Elizabeth told her. “But one of the most essential elements will be keeping our military establishments on the same page. Especially with the Alignment still out there somewhere.”
All trace of amusement faded from her eyes for a moment, and her nostrils flared.
“I know the hunt for the rest of your ‘onion’ is really only just getting started, Honor, but I have to tell you, I’m not optimistic about our dragging them back into the open until they’re damned well ready to come back out into the open.”
“I’m not giving up hope, but I’m afraid that’s what the odds favor,” Honor agreed.
“Which is why we have to maintain a strong military posture. I don’t see any way in hell we could maintain the fleet strength we have right now. There are megatons of totally valid domestic reasons to cut naval funding now that the League’s not a threat and we’ve pretty much established we can kick anybody’s ass,” Elizabeth said bluntly. “Manticore has enough of a naval tradition, and enough interstellar commitments, that maintaining a powerful fleet won’t be that great a challenge. Maintaining one as powerful as the one we have now is likely to be impossible, though. And Haven’s navy will probably be under even more pressure to retrench. Partly, I’m afraid, because the Havenite Navy acquired a lot of…negative associations under the Legislaturalists that the Royal Navy’s never had to deal with.”
Honor nodded again. She’d considered those points herself, more than once.
“So what Eloise and I plan to do is find every way we can to weld the RMN and RHN together at the hip.” Elizabeth smiled thinly. “For one thing, we’re shipping all the Solarian data you brought home from Ganymede to Bolthole, and we intend to establish a permanent joint R&D facility there.” Honor’s eyes flared in true astonishment, and Elizabeth’s smile grew warmer. “Apparently, Admiral Hemphill and Admiral Foraker have taken a genuine liking to one another.” The empress shook her head. “Eloise tells me Tom Theisman’s taken to referring to them as ‘a congress of geeks.’” She chuckled. “I think he means it as a compliment.”
“I’m pretty sure he does,” Honor said, “but…Lord! I don’t know if the galaxy’s ready to have both of them working together permanently, Elizabeth!”
“With treecats thrown into the mix, too,” Elizabeth said with a louder chuckle. “Don’t forget that!”
Honor shook her head, and Elizabeth grinned at her.
“Anyway, what we’re hoping is that our research establishments will cross-fertilize and we can create a commonality of weapons clear across the board. And, of course, strategic and tactical doctrine to go with it. I expect that’ll require at least as much work as the hardware side.”
Honor nodded yet again, and Elizabeth shrugged.
“One thing we’re planning on is to operate permanently integrated Manticoran and Havenite formations in areas which are clearly of vital interest to us both. There’ll be plenty of opportunity to cycle up and coming commanders through those sorts of slots. And we’re also thinking about modifying our academies’ curricula so that our midshipmen and their officer cadets each spend one full year in the other’s academy.”
Honor’s eyes widened with respect for that notion, but then she frowned.
“All that sounds wonderful, Elizabeth. And I’m pretty sure our current crop of senior officers could make it work, at least at the macro level. Mike and Lester, for example, or L’anglais and Alice. But it’s going to tend to fly apart at what I think of as the micro-level. The training level, the level where logistics officers and yard dogs get to stick their oars in. Or the level where people who feel their unspeakable talents were underrecognized when someone like that hack Tourville got the choice assignment and all the glory can do their best to pour sand into the gears. That’s one of the things I worry about on the political side, but that’s not my real forte. The military side, though—” She shook her head. “Tom can probably handle it from his side, at least as long as Eloise is in office, but we’ve got plenty of arrogant, chauvinistic Manticorans who’ll require a little…attitude adjustment from time to time while all this is getting set up. Once it’s up and running, maybe not, but in the early stages—?”
She rolled her eyes. Then she stopped, and those eyes narrowed as she tasted Elizabeth’s mind-glow.
“Oh, no!” she said sharply. “Don’t even think about it, Elizabeth!”
“Well, I wasn’t going to bring it up,” the empress said, “but since you have, there’s really only—”
“I said no, and I meant no,” Honor said flatly. “I’m done, Elizabeth. I told you that.”
“I know you did,” El
izabeth said in a softer voice.
“Well I damned well meant it,” Honor said. She tucked her right arm around Katherine and reached out her left to take Hamish’s hand. “I’ve been on active duty since the day I graduated from Saganami Island, and since Basilisk, I’ve been on active operations without any real break—aside from the time I spent on medical leave or hauled off to Cerberus! Oh, and I’ll give you the time I spent on the beach after the duel or during the High Ridge fiasco, although I wouldn’t exactly call either of those ‘restful.’ But that’s forty-three T-years, Elizabeth. Forty-three. And I have a family, and I’m going to spend time with that family.”
Her eyes burned, her hand tightened on Hamish’s, and she realized her lips wanted to quiver. She blinked back tears and looked quickly at him, tasting his support, feeling his love, then turned back to Elizabeth.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” she said softly. “I know how badly you think you need me. I can taste it. But I’ve given everything I’ve got. I’m…tired. And Hamish and I went to Briarwood last week for Doctor Illescue to implant the zygote—Emily’s zygote. The day I told her about Beowulf, the day she died, that was the day it was fertilized.”
She shook her head fiercely.
“And I know now, Mom,” she said, turning to her mother, “why you said I’d understand why you carried me to term when it was my turn. I didn’t have that with Raoul, but I’ll have it with this child. With Emily’s child. And when this child is born, my children—and hers—will have a mother.”
She turned back to Elizabeth.
“So, I’m sorry Elizabeth,” she repeated, her eyes misty, “but there are some things in this universe that are more important. And I am finally going to give them—give the people I love—the time they deserve. Emily taught me that, and I’m going to do it.”
There was silence for a long moment, and then Elizabeth Winton reached out and laid one gentle hand on Honor Alexander-Harrington’s knee.
“Of course you are,” she said softly.
* * *
“Your Majesty,” Prime Minister Grantville said with unaccustomed formality some hours later, “I don’t think—”
“Don’t go there, Willie,” Elizabeth said with an off-center smile.
Honor and Hamish and their entire family—two-legs and treecats alike—had departed twenty minutes ago, after a private dinner with the royal family. There weren’t that many people Elizabeth Winton could invite over for dinner without its turning into a state occasion or a political horse-trading session, and she deeply treasured the people with whom she could do that.
She didn’t need Honor’s ability to taste other people’s emotions to know Grantville had simply been biding his time, though. Now she faced him squarely, and he gave her one of those stubborn Alexander looks.
“Your Majesty, I understand what she’s saying. And God knows I love her. For that matter, there’s nobody in the Star Empire who has a better understanding of how much she’s already given. How much she’s already sacrificed. But we need her. We need her as the First Space Lord everyone would respect. Not even the most chauvinistic Havenite officer in the universe would dare to…to disrespect her. And I can’t even imagine a Manticoran officer with the testosterone level to argue with her. We have to make this military partnership work, and without her—”
“First, Willie,” Elizabeth interrupted firmly, “nobody is truly irreplaceable. Do I agree with you that she would be the absolutely ideal First Space Lord? Of course I do! The only slot she’d be more valuable in would be First Lord, but I sort of think we’ll be leaving Hamish in that one for a while. So, yes. I would really, really like to see First Space Lord Harrington working with First Lord White Haven and Secretary of War Theisman and CNO L’anglais or Tourville to make this work. You cannot imagine how much I would like to see that.
“But, second, she’s absolutely right about how much she’s already given. How much her service to the Star Kingdom and the Star Empire’s already cost her. I don’t think I could even count the number of times she’s almost been killed, and the list of people she cared about who have been killed would be enough to give me nightmares if I knew all the names on it. She’s lost virtually all of her family on Sphinx, God only knows how many cousins she lost in the Beowulf Strike, and now she’s lost Emily. And I owe her. I owe her—me, personally, Elizabeth Winton, not just Queen Elizabeth or Empress Elizabeth. That woman has put herself through hell for me over and over again, and so this time, Willie—this time—I have her back for a change. I don’t really give a damn how badly we think we need her. You leave her be. That’s a direct royal command. And you make sure everyone else leaves her be, because I will be the worst nightmare of anyone who doesn’t. And, just to be sure we’re perfectly clear about this, that means you, too. And I don’t care if you are her brother-in-law. Do you read me on this?”
Grantville looked at her for a moment, but then he sighed.
“You’re right,” he said. “I just…I just can’t not want to see her where we need her so badly.”
“That’s because you’re a prime minister,” she told him with a crooked smile. “Now, go home—both of you—” she reached out to give Tree Master a quick ear rub where he sat on Grantville’s shoulder, “and get a good night’s rest. Because tomorrow, while she and Hamish are out at White Haven packing for Grayson, you and I are going to be thinking about who we’ll grab for First Space Lord since we can’t have her. Got it?”
“Got it, Your Majesty,” he said ruefully and gave the prince consort a slight bow. “Good night, Your Highness,” he said. “And to you, as well, Your Majesty.”
“Good night, Willie,” Elizabeth said affectionately, and walked him to the door.
It closed behind him, and Elizabeth tucked her arm through Justin’s elbow and led him out onto one of King Michael’s Tower’s balconies. They settled on a chaise lounge, and she leaned back, resting her head on his chest with a sigh of deep content as Ariel and Monroe draped themselves on perches.
“I’ve got to say, Beth,” Justin said. “I really didn’t expect you to give up that easily. I mean, I agree with everything you just said, but I really, really didn’t expect you to let her go without more of a fight.”
“Really?” She rolled her head, smiling at him in the moonlight. “What makes you think I gave up on anything?”
His eyes narrowed, and he frowned down at her.
“But you just said—”
“I said she was right, and I said she deserves to be left in peace, and I said I’d protect her from everyone else.” Elizabeth’s smile softened and something like sorrow floated in her eyes. “And I will. And it won’t matter. Not in the end.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Why won’t it matter?”
“Because I’ll need her,” Elizabeth said, almost inaudibly. “I’ll need her, and when I do, I’ll get her back.”
“Elizabeth, you’re a queen, an empress,” he said gently, hugging her tight. “I know you care about her. But it’s your job—your duty—to put the people you have to have in the places where you have to have them, whatever it costs them. Whatever it costs you.”
“Of course it is.” She looked up at him again. “But I’m not the one who’s going to make her come back, make her put herself on the line again.”
He frowned in confusion, and Elizabeth reached up to touch the side of his face.
“I can—and I by God will—protect her from everyone in the damned galaxy,” she said fiercely. “But there’s one person I can’t protect her from.” Elizabeth shook her head, her dark eyes glistening with unshead tears. “That’s the hell of it, Justin. I can’t protect her from herself. I’ll need her, and she’ll know it, and that will be all it takes. All in the world. Not because I try to force her into it, but because of who she is.”
She arched her neck, raising her head to kiss him, and then settled back once again, her eyes closed.
“Because she’s Honor Harrington,” the Empres
s of Manticore said softly. “Because she’s Honor Harrington.”
David Weber, Uncompromising Honor - eARC
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