He paused again. Seeing that no one was showing any obvious opposition—not even President Nihita, the impassioned hawk—he found the president staring thoughtfully at his report.
Vice President Yero was quite pleased. As soon as he fell silent, he met Mr. Bai's bright, alert gaze.
"Vice President," Mr. Bai said.
"Uh, yes..."
"Who's going to spread what was said today? And who's going to stone you to death? If this is a normal discussion of national policy, who's going to turn it into a personal grudge? Please don't try to pick a fight where there isn't one." Mr. Bai's voice turned cold. "All you're saying is that if we win, we can negotiate with the Empire. Why not say it plainly?"
"Yes, I'm sorry." Vice President Yero hung his head and apologized like a schoolboy. He was the country's second-in-command, but didn't seem the least bit humiliated about apologizing to an old minister at the bottom of the rankings.
President Nihita was even more pleased, and hurried to play peacemaker again. "All right, all right, everyone. Let's discuss what we need to do next."
You only got to play "Martial Emperor" for half an hour! Old Mr. Bai looked at the president and let out a long sigh to himself. He'd honestly rather go to the distant Far Shore and fight to the death alongside the New Shenzhou troops. Whoever wanted this lousy minister's job could have it.
For the rest of the meeting, Old Mr. Bai wore a stony expression. Even when Defense Commissioner Maxwell pointed out that Miss Bai Ziqi had repeatedly distinguished herself at the front, and that, as a Fourth-Ring psion, she ought to be promoted to brigadier general, he could only manage a stiff smile of thanks.
Then it was the Foreign Ministry's turn to