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to my wild-eyed lunacy than Sir Frederick,” Roger said. “Captain Wyeth’s his chief of staff these days. He’s been, ah, priming the pump a bit for me, I think. And if I very quietly suggested to Pablo that it might be a good idea to have the heir to the throne closer to hand, and if he suggested it to Sir William, and if Sir William suggested it to Truman, well—”
    He shrugged, and his mother nodded. Slowly at first, then with increasing approval.
    “I see your father was right when he said you’d learn plenty about politics and infighting with the Fleet.” She stopped nodding and smiled a bit bittersweetly, remembering her husband. Then she shook herself and her eyes narrowed as she contemplated her son. “On the other hand, why do I have the feeling you’re planning to hit more than one bird with that particular rock?”
    “Because you know me so well.” His own smile was fleeting, but it was also much closer to a grin. “If I have to give up Daimyo , then I know what I want instead, and I think we can probably convince Sir William to give it to me.”
    “And that would be what, precisely?”
    “Well, I don’t want a dirt-side command, that’s for sure. And I’m sorry, Mom, but I’d cut my throat if they tried to stick me in BuPlan.”
    His shudder was only partly feigned. Vice Admiral Bethany Havinghurst, as head of the Bureau of Planning, also headed ONI, which meant she was responsible for the intelligence analyses Admiral Truman used to justify his emphasis on Silesia, instead of worrying about “the remote possibility” that the People’s Republic might someday become a threat to the Star Kingdom. The possibility of becoming a staff weenie shuffling papers somewhere in the bowels of BuPlan—and with an idiot like Edward Janacek as his direct superior—held no appeal at all.
    “That’s what you don’t want,” his mother observed. “What is it you do want, dear?”
    “BuWeaps,” he said, and his voice was suddenly very, very serious. “Lomax isn’t who I’d have chosen to head BuWeaps, Mom, but she’s at least a little more open-minded than Truman or Havinghurst. I think she’s too conservative in her approach, under the circumstances, but she’s not part of the ‘old boy and girl network’ the way Truman and Low Delhi are. I’d like to get more hands-on experience with our R and D programs, and BuWeaps is small enough—way too small, in fact, given what’s going on—that a lieutenant commander would be at least a moderately middle-sized fish. I think I could actually do some good over there.”
    “More than at BuShips?” Samantha asked shrewdly.
    “ Lots more than at BuShips.” Roger grimaced. “Low Delhi’s an idiot. Or his policy recommendations are idiotic, at any rate.”
    That wasn’t something he could have said to a fellow Navy officer, of course, nor was it anything he’d ever say in public, but that didn’t make it untrue. Third Space Lord Robert Hemphill, the Baron of Low Delhi, headed the Bureau of Ships, responsible for the construction and maintenance of the Navy’s space stations and vessels, and he did not respond well to criticism, however constructive.
    “In fairness, I don’t suppose he’s any more of an idiot than a few other senior officers I could name,” he continued. “The problem is he’s got too much invested on a personal and a professional level in the building policies Truman’s been driving for the last several T-years. He’s not going to recommend any radical changes, and BuShips is too damned big. I’d disappear into it and never be seen again—professionally speaking, that is—until my coronation!”
    “And you really think you could have some influence with Lomax?”
    “I think it’s at least possible,” Roger replied. “Like I say, Dame Carrie’s a little too conservative for my tastes, but I understand why she is. In fact, in some ways I have to agree with her.”
    “Excuse me?” His mother sat back in her