David Weber - At All Costs

"Now that you mention it, it does," Theisman said. He frowned, then shrugged. "Well, she's only one woman, and as you just demonstrated, she's not invincible. Tough, and not someone I want to go up against without a substantial advantage, but not invincible. Which, by the way, the newsies have been playing up with joyous abandon ever since your dispatches arrived. I warn you, if you turn up in public anywhere on Haven, be prepared to be embarrassed within a centimeter of your life."

"Oh, God," Giscard muttered in disgusted tones. "Just what Eloise and I needed-smutsies."

Theisman laughed. He shouldn't have, and he knew it, but smutsies-the modern heirs of the old pre-space paparazzi-had always been a particularly virulent fact of life in the People's Republic. In fact, they'd been almost a semi-official adjunct of the Office of Public Information's propagandists. They'd been used to titillate-and divert-the Mob with all sorts of intrusive, sensationalized stories about entertainment figures, supposed enemies of the People, and, especially, political leaders of opposition star nations. Some of the stories about Elizabeth III and her alleged... relations with her treecat, for example, had been decidedly over the top. Not to mention, he felt sure, anatomically impossible.

Unfortunately, the smutsies had survived the People's Republic's fall, and the new freedom of information and the press under the restored Constitution actually made them more intrusive, not less. So far, Giscard and President Pritchart had managed to keep their relationship more or less below the smutsies' radar horizon, and what the so-called "journalists" would do when they finally realized what they'd been missing formed the basis for the unofficial presidential couple's joint nightmares.

"Well," Theisman said, and held out his hand to Borderwijk, "I can understand why that would be a matter of some concern. And while I hate to do this, I'm afraid I may be going to make it just a bit worse."

"Worse?" Giscard regarded him suspiciously. "Just how are you going to make it worse? And don't bother telling me you regret it-I can see the gleam in your eye from here!"

"Well, it's just... this," Theisman said, opening the case Borderwijk handed him and extending it to Giscard.

The admiral took it with another suspicious glower, then glanced down into it. His expression changed instantly, and his eyes shot back up to Theisman's face.

"You're joking."

"No, Javier, I'm not." Theisman's smile had disappeared.

"I don't deserve it," Giscard said flatly. "This is what Jacques Griffith got for taking out Grendelsbane, for God's sake!"

"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!"

"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.