She was a Mundy of Chatsworth. She might very well fail, but she wasn’t going to quit. With her face hard, she set off for the cabinet shop in the arches supporting the causeway to the palace gardens.
“I believe there’s only one more matter to be considered at this time, sirs and madame,” said the Secretary to the Navy Board. She was a woman at the latter end of middle age, utterly colorless in tone and appearance. Her name was Klemsch, but two of the five board members couldn’t have called her anything beyond “Mistress Secretary” without thinking longer than they were accustomed to do.
With absolute rectitude and self-effacement Klemsch had served Admiral Anston for over thirty years. Because of that she was herself one of the most powerful individuals in the Republic of Cinnabar.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Anston,” Guiliani grumbled. “Does it have to be today? I have an engagement.”
“It shouldn’t take long,” Admiral Anston said, politely but without any hint that his mind might be changed. He nodded to Klemsch. “Invite Mistress Sand to join us, please.”
“I knew I should have stayed in bed today,” the Third Member muttered, scowling at the table’s onyx surface.
Three of the junior board members were senators; Guiliani was not, but the present Speaker was her first cousin. She and La Foche had naval rank themselves, but Admiral Anston was the only serving officer. He had earned both his rank and his considerable private fortune waging war successfully against Cinnabar’s enemies.
No Chairman of the Navy Board could be described as apolitical, but it was accepted by all who knew Anston that his whole loyalty was to the RCN itself. At this time of present crisis, even the most rabid party politician preferred the office to be in Anston’s hands rather than those of someone more malleable but less competent.
Mistress Sand entered the conference room without an obvious summons. She was a bulky woman, well if unobtrusively dressed. “Harry,” she said, nodding. “Gene, Tom, it’s good to see you. Bate, my husband was just asking after you. Will we see you next week at the Music Society meeting?”
“We’re planning to attend,” the Third Member replied. “At least if my granddaughter’s marriage negotiations wrap up in time.”
All the political members of the board knew Mistress Sand socially; none of them wanted to have professional contact with the genial, cultured woman.
“I told my fellows that this wouldn’t take long, Bernis,” Admiral Anston said. “Why don’t you lay out just the heads of the business rather than going into detail as you did with me?”
Sand nodded pleasantly and opened her ivory snuffbox. She placed a pinch in the hollow formed by her thumb and the back of her hand, then snorted it into her left nostril.
There was a chair open for her at Anston’s right. She remained standing.
“The Alliance is planning some devilment on Kostroma,” Sand said. Admiral Anston wore a slight smile; the four junior board members were frowningly silent. “I’m afraid that the risks are such that we need to take action ourselves.”
“There’s already trouble with the new Elector, isn’t there?” the Fourth Member said. “Time we took the place over ourselves and cut the subsidy budget, I say.”
“The reasons we decided Kostroma was more valuable as a friend than as a possession,” Anston said, “appear to me to remain valid. But we can’t permit the Alliance to capture Kostroma, and the Kostromans are unlikely to halt a really serious Alliance invasion. Their fleet is laid up and their satellite defense system hasn’t been upgraded in a generation.”
“Walter Hajas isn’t going to like us interfering,” Guiliani said in a gloomy tone. Her family had invested heavily in the Kostroma trade, so the probable disruption had personal as well as national importance to her. “Let alone us basing a fleet on Kostroma. A few ships refitting at a time, sure, but the harbor’s already near capacity with the merchant trade. If we reduce that, a lot of people lose money and the new Elector gets unpopular fast.”
She shook her head in dismay. “As do we.”
“We don’t have a battle fleet to send!” the Second Member said. He looked up at Anston in sudden concern. “Do we, Josh? I understood we were too stretched for proper patrolling against privateers.”