Relentless

TWO

The fleet conference room on Dauntless wasn’t all that large, and the table and seats it boasted could have held no more than a dozen people at the most. But the virtual conferencing software made the apparent size of the table and the compartment expand to accommodate the numbers of people in any meeting, so that Geary stood at the head of an extremely long table with hundreds of officers seated around it. Aside from him, Captain Desjani, and Co-President Rione, none of the other individuals were actually physically present. As much as he disliked fleet conferences, Geary had to admit the software was an impressive piece of work, and the fact that most of those “present” weren’t actually here had kept anyone from going for anyone else’s throat during arguments in the past. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem much chance of open argument this time. As much as he had disliked bandying words with the likes of Numos or Casia or Midea, at least the straightforward hostility of their attitudes had made it clear who needed to be watched. He would have welcomed that now, as a chance to identify the remaining opposition to his command of the fleet. But whoever was driving that effort seemed to have expended most of their human shields yet was remaining frustratingly hidden. If the only threat they posed was to his command, he wouldn’t have expended much worry on them since after the second battle of Lakota his standing with the sailors and most of the officers of the fleet was as firm as hull armor, but his hidden foes had repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to endanger some of the fleet’s warships in their attempts to strike at Geary. The game had shifted from trying to topple him to trying to assassinate him and his firmest supporters, which, in practice, meant trying to destroy the ships they were on.

Geary called up the star display over the conference table. “My apologies for the delay in communicating my intentions. We’ve stripped Dilawa of everything of use to us. I’ve already ordered the fleet onto a course for the jump point for Heradao.” On the display, the projected path of the Alliance fleet curved in a graceful arc through the empty reaches of Dilawa Star System. “We hope to find that the Alliance prisoners of war are still at Heradao, in which case we’ll liberate them.”

“We need to liberate more food along with them,” Captain Tulev stated bluntly. “What we have is inadequate.”

Commander Neeson of Implacable shook his head. “We can’t loot enough unless we occupy a planetary-surface warehouse district, and that’s beyond our Marines’ capability. We also can’t trust any food the Syndics give us under duress, and we can’t test it all thoroughly.”

“Two thousand prisoners at Heradao according to the old records we have,” Tulev pointed out. “We must liberate them, I agree. Physically, we can hold them. Some of our ships are still slightly understrength from battle casualties even with the survivors we’ve picked up from ships we’ve lost, and the others can take on extra personnel for the time needed to reach Alliance space. But the food situation is growing critical.”

“You mean like the fuel situation?” Captain Armus of the Colossus grumbled. Geary held up a hand to quiet everyone. “We’re short on everything. However the logistics systems project that even if we pick up two thousand liberated Alliance personnel, we’ll be able to make Alliance space without running out of food, though rations will have to be reduced again.”

“And if we’re delayed?” Tulev asked.

“We can’t afford any more delays,” Geary replied. “Fuel and food are at critical levels, and the only source we can count on for resupply is back in Alliance home space. We’re going to keep moving and fighting. We’ve had to be very concerned with keeping the Syndics guessing as to our route home, but from this point on we’re heading straight there.” Relieved smiles appeared on many faces as Geary shifted the scale on the star display, but then the smiles faded on most faces. Armus put the worry into words. “A direct route increases the chances of running into Syndic blocking forces. How can we fight through those forces if we’re low on fuel?”

Pray to our ancestors for a miracle occurred to Geary as an answer, but hoping for divine intervention wasn’t a sound basis for tactical planning. “By fighting as smart as we can to minimize fuel-cell usage. If necessary, we’ll try to blow past the blocking forces and leave them in our wake.” That intelligent and reasonable idea drew grimaces around the table. It was too contrary to the primitive concepts of honor and courage that had controlled the fleet’s actions for at least a generation and led to horrendous losses as well. But Geary had gained enough experience with those attitudes to know how to satisfy them. “We can always come back and destroy those Syndic ships once we’ve re-fueled, or leave them for the Alliance warships that have been defending our home space in our absence and deserve an opportunity to get in their own blows.”

The grimaces lightened, and some smiles reappeared as Geary continued.

“There’s a strong possibility that whatever the Syndics have left to try to stop us will be waiting at Heradao, because it’s a straight shot back home for us. If a Syndic flotilla is at Heradao, we will fight them there because our fuel stocks will be as good as they’re going to be until we get home.”

He glanced at Captain Desjani, who betrayed no sign that Geary was practically quoting her own advice. I can’t afford to feed rumors of favoritism toward Desjani now, but once this is over, I’ll make sure that she and people like her get the credit they deserve. Outwardly, Geary just indicated a bright white star. “After Heradao we’ll go on to Padronis, and from there to Atalia.”

A sigh seemed to run around the table as Captain Badaya of Illustrious spoke the thoughts probably on everyone’s mind. “And Atalia is within jump range of Varandal.”

“Right,” Geary agreed. “Alliance home space, and the biggest concentration of fleet support facilities in the region. Once we reach Varandal, we can get all of the supplies we need.”

“Boldness is certainly called for,” Captain Caligo of the battle cruiser Brilliant agreed. “The Alliance needs us and every Alliance prisoner of war we can liberate from within Syndic territory.”

That unobjectionable statement drew nods of agreement as Geary took a moment to look at Caligo. He’d been mostly silent at these meetings until recently, but had begun speaking up. Not that Caligo had yet said anything exceptional, just things that found concurrence with almost everyone.

“Our intelligence personnel believe the Syndic mine inventories must still be very low after all of the mines they laid in the star systems around Lakota to try trapping us,” Geary continued. “We’ll still do a preprogrammed evasive maneuver upon arrival at Heradao and be ready for combat coming out of the jump exit. Are there any questions?”

“What about Kalixa?” Captain Kila asked. “It’s on the way home, too, and it has a Syndic hypernet gate.” Her tone seemed to be intended to be mild but was still sharp. Diplomacy definitely wasn’t Kila’s strong suit, but then he already knew that.

“We’re not going to Kalixa,” Geary replied. “The risks posed by a Syndic hypernet gate are too great.”

Kila pretended puzzlement. “Are risks a problem for this fleet? We’re not afraid of what the Syndics can do, Captain Geary, but this would be a good opportunity to inflict more damage on them by eliminating another star system of theirs.”

Commander Neeson sounded incredulous. “Excuse me, Captain Kila, but you were at Lakota with us, weren’t you? Our own fleet could have been destroyed.”

“It wasn’t,” Kila pointed out. “Avoiding actions out of exaggerated fears of the enemy response isn’t what’s expected of any commander in this fleet, let alone a battle cruiser commander.”

Neeson’s face flushed with sudden anger. “Are you accusing me of cowardice?”

“Quiet,” Geary ordered. “Everyone. Captain Kila, your statement was out of line.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t mean offense, merely to point out—”

“That’s enough.” He could see the flare of defiance in Kila’s eyes as he cut her off. “Commander Neeson has demonstrated his courage many times. I will not tolerate attempts to question the abilities or the bravery of anyone in this fleet without good cause.”

Captain Cresida, who had clearly been waiting for an opening, jumped in. “Commander Neeson is also right. The energy discharge when the hypernet gate at Lakota collapsed was on the low end of the theoretical range. I’ll remind Captain Kila that the high end runs up to a nova-scale burst of energy. No ship in the same star system could possibly survive that even if located as far as possible from the gate when it collapsed.”

“In theory,” Kila replied sarcastically. “We didn’t see anything like that at either Sancere or Lakota, so perhaps the theory is wrong, and the gates may be safely used by us as weapons to eliminate Syndic star systems and finally make them pay in full for what they’ve done in this war!”

“That statement,” Cresida returned with growing heat, “reflects a total misunderstanding of what is known about the hypernet gates and the data we collected at both Sancere and Lakota!”

“That’s enough.” Geary broke in again. “Captain Cresida is right. We don’t need to debate the science here. Captain Kila, I recommend you familiarize yourself with what is known before you make suggestions for courses of action.” Kila reddened at the barely veiled rebuke. Daring’s captain nodded. “As for being able to ride out taking down a hypernet gate, we all saw what happened to the Syndic warships that took down their own gate at Lakota.”

“Our ships—” Kila began.

“At Sancere my ship was right up there while it was collapsing, and Inspire was a long ways distant! I know exactly what it’s like to be near a collapsing hypernet gate, and I don’t want any part of that again no matter what you say. Only luck and the living stars saved us at Sancere and Lakota.”

“Luck, courage, and brains,” Geary added. “As long as this fleet continues to use the last two, we can save the first for emergencies. And as for using the hypernet gates to destroy enemy star systems, I’ve already stated that I will not order such an action. Neither the living stars nor our ancestors could possibly approve of such an atrocity and on such a scale.”

“It appears,” Captain Duellos observed, “that there’s no reason to go to Kalixa then.”

Kila shot him an ugly look as Captain Caligo chimed in once more. “We’re one fleet. We all believe in the same things. Arguments like this only serve the goals of the enemy by driving us apart.”

That brought many more nods of approval. Geary couldn’t find fault with Caligo’s words, either, and for some reason they even shut up Kila, who finally subsided.

“Are there any other questions?” Geary asked dryly.

There weren’t, and the meeting ended in a flurry of images vanishing and the room apparently shrinking back to normal dimensions again.

Captain Duellos lingered for a moment. “I have to confess I was starting to wonder why we hadn’t headed out of Dilawa before now.”

“I needed to have my head pounded with a brick,” Geary admitted.

“Ah, I see. How fortunate that you had Captain Desjani handy for that task.”

Desjani gave Duellos an annoyed look. “Don’t you have better things to be doing right now, Roberto?”

Duellos nodded, then smiled. “Call me if you ever need another brick, Tanya.”

“I’ll do that. He’s got a hard head. I bet you’ve saved up quite a supply of bricks so they’ll be handy for arguments with Kila.”

“She’s not worth our time,” Duellos said dismissively. “I only speak with her when duty requires it.”

Geary grimaced in response. “I’m just glad she shut up before I had to outright order her to do that.”

“Even Kila couldn’t object to what Caligo said.”

“Yes, she could’ve,” Desjani insisted. “Even the blandest statement can be twisted. I was surprised she accepted it so quietly.”

Duellos pursed his lips in thought. “That’s a point, but you’re implying that Kila and Caligo have some sort of agreement. They don’t socialize, I don’t know of anyone who’s even seen them together except in meetings like this one, and they’re not exactly soul mates.”

“I won’t argue that,” Desjani conceded.

“How well do you know Captain Kila?” Geary asked.

Desjani shrugged. “I’ve had little contact with her, but that’s been by choice based on what I’ve heard from friends. And I’ve heard plenty.”

“What did your friends say?”

Another shrug. “They say that Kila’s bitch-switch is locked into the ‘on’ position and comes with a power-boost setting that activates at the slightest provocation.”

Geary managed to convert his laugh into a cough. “That sounds like good justification for avoiding her.”

“As well as an accurate description,” Duellos observed.

“How did she make rank with a personality like that?”

Desjani gave Geary a skeptical look. “Are you serious? Her personality only comes into play with people junior in rank to her, or with peers who are rivals for promotion. As far as her superiors are concerned, she’s always as fine as a micron filter.”

“Oh.” It had been a dumb question. He’d encountered a few people like that in his career a century ago, and somehow wars usually managed to avoid causing the loss of such individuals.

“So you can see,” Duellos continued, “that Kila isn’t the sort to buddy up to a bland sort of officer who can do nothing for her ambitions. Caligo is the sort of officer that Kila snacks on for fun.”

“That doesn’t mean they couldn’t end up in bed together,” Desjani pointed out.

“Ouch.” Duellos made a pained face. “I know you meant it metaphorically, but now I have that image in my head. Oh, please, make it go away. By your leave, Captain Geary, I have to go take a shower.”

After watching Duellos’s image vanish, Geary shook his head at Desjani. “I’m glad you two are on my side.” He held up a hand as Rione started to leave. “Can you wait a moment, Madam Co-President?”

Rione stopped, her eyes going from Desjani to Geary. “I thought you two might want to be alone.”

Desjani’s eyes narrowed, and the corners of her upper lip curled to bare her teeth. “Perhaps Co-President Rione would care to repeat that to me in private?”

“I was hoping”—Geary broke in before Rione could offer Desjani her choice of weapons—“that you could let me know if you’ve found out anything?”

This time Rione let her gaze linger on Desjani, plainly indicating a question about her presence, but Geary just waited. He needed another set of eyes on this, another mind double-checking his own. Eventually, Rione shook her head. “What I’ve learned can be summed up in one word—nothing.”

“Not a thing?” Geary rubbed his forehead, trying to hide his disappointment. “I know how good your spies in this fleet are, Madam Co-President. I’d hoped—”

“Since they’re working on your behalf, you should call them agents, Captain Geary.” Rione gestured angrily. “Whoever has been behind the most recent challenges to your command and the attempts to sabotage some of the ships of this fleet has hidden their involvement exceptionally well. They’ve left no trails to follow. Even the interrogations you authorized of that oaf Captain Numos after the last attempts to insert worms into the operating systems of your warships produced nothing because Numos doesn’t have a clue who was actually goading him on. Faresa might have had some idea, but she died at Lakota. The same is true of Falco, assuming he could have managed to separate fantasy from reality long enough to provide anything useful. Captain Casia and Commander Yin can’t talk because they’re dead as a result of a convenient accident. If you’ve been underestimating your remaining enemies in this fleet in any way, stop doing so now. Whoever they are, they’re very capable and very dangerous.”

“So are we,” Desjani said.

Rione looked amused. “Bravado may be useful against the Syndics, but it isn’t what you need against this enemy.”

“We know that.” Geary intervened before Desjani could fire another volley. “What about Kila? She’s grown steadily more open in her dissents.”

Now Rione’s amusement faded to annoyance. “As your fellow officers reported and my agents confirmed, Kila is too widely disliked to have a hope of being accepted as commander of this fleet. But she’s also too arrogant, and—unlike Numos—too capable, to allow herself to be used by others. Apparently this is just her normal personality asserting itself now that she’s realized you won’t fall for the usual ways she tries to suck up to her superiors. She never tried to seduce you, did she?”

“What?”

“There’s indications it might have been one of her tactics for advancement, though that could also just be gossip fed by the general dislike for Kila among her peers. You’re saying she never tried that with you?”

“No!” He could see Desjani out of the corners of his eyes, and she was looking daggers at Rione. “We haven’t even physically been on the same ship!”

Rione nodded. “That might explain it, then. In any case, your reputation is such that she probably would have realized such an attempt would have been futile.”

“Thanks.” Rione always seemed to know how to keep him off-balance.

“But Kila wouldn’t work as a human shield for those pulling the strings in these actions against you and the fleet,” Rione continued. “If she were behind this, why would Kila be drawing attention to herself?”

“If my hidden foes are as smart as we think, she wouldn’t be.” Geary shook his head. “The systems-security people are watching for more dangerous worms but can’t guarantee they know every possible back door into fleet control systems. What else can we do?”

“I don’t know.” Rione’s frustration was easily apparent. “I understand you haven’t received any more offers to become dictator.”

“Not in the last few days.”

“The only thing between you and being able to do that,” Rione noted, “is the distance remaining to Alliance space and whatever Syndic forces are left to get past.”

“And me,” Geary replied. “I won’t do it.”

Rione gave him a weary look. “Why do you think that is a critical factor? When we reach Varandal, those who want you to seize authority from the elected leaders of the Alliance will expect you to act.”

Desjani replied this time, her voice cold. “Captain Geary will not violate his oath to the Alliance, no matter how badly the politicians leading the Alliance do their jobs.”

Rione ignored her, speaking pointedly just to Geary. “They won’t accept your denials forever, and they know the vast majority of the fleet would support them if they acted allegedly on your behalf. They don’t need your approval to launch a coup in your name. You have to expect that they will do that and try to present you with a fait accompli. You need to have a plan for how to deal with that before the Alliance government is overthrown.”

“All right.” He couldn’t help noticing that Rione was essentially offering the same advice as Desjani had earlier. No way was he going to be foolish enough to mention that, though. “Do you have any suggestions on a plan?”

“If I were dealing with other politicians, it wouldn’t be too hard to come up with ideas,” Rione replied with an exasperated scowl. “But my grasp of the military mind is still limited.”

Geary gave Desjani a sidelong glance. “Perhaps we should run with the military angle. Think of it as a military problem, a matter of strategies and tactics.”

Rione’s expression altered as she pondered the idea. “That might be very useful.”

Unseen by her, Desjani flashed a very unmilitary smirk.

Geary tried to flick a cautioning look at Desjani, which, of course, Rione noted, and she turned slightly to watch Desjani with narrowed eyes, though too late to catch the mocking expression. “Can you do that?”

Rione asked Geary. “Explain it to them in their terms in such a way that they won’t act?”

“I’m trying to, but I haven’t yet thought of any argument powerful enough.”

This time Rione snorted in derision. “Think in terms of disasters, because that’s what a military coup would be. A very big disaster, the biggest you can bring to mind.”

Desjani lifted one eyebrow toward Geary. “That sounds like a description of the results of the attack on the Syndic home system that trapped this fleet far inside enemy territory.”

“That’s good,” Rione conceded. “Very good. Something recent enough that the memories and emotions are fresh, and something that sounded attractive but was actually a debacle that could have lost the war. Surely you can come up with something drawing on that.”

Geary nodded. “I just need to figure out who the enemy is in that scenario.”

Rione exhaled in exasperation. “That’s the easiest part. Ask your captain, there. She’ll tell you. Or ask Captain Badaya. Who’s the enemy at home? I am, and every other politician. That’s what they believe.”

Desjani nodded once, her eyes on Rione and all trace of mockery fled. “You see? Your strategy should be based on what people like Badaya already consider to be the truth. They’ll be much more likely to accept it if you do that. Then you can test out your ideas on this one. She has a military mind, and you haven’t got anyone more trustworthy.” That praise startled both Desjani and Geary into letting their reactions show. Rione smiled, her lips a thin, tight line. “I’m neither blind nor stupid. If you don’t keep that woman guarding your back, you’re an idiot, Captain Geary. However, will she tell you if she doesn’t think your ideas will be effective?”

Geary’s mouth twisted into an ironic return smile. “I feel confident that Captain Desjani will let me know if there are any shortcomings on my part.”

“Good. I don’t want the government of the Alliance overthrown by anyone claiming to act in the name of the great hero whose legend the government created, and I don’t want to have to deal with you if that does happen and you decide you like it.” Rione turned and left, the hatch sealing behind her.

“Did she just threaten you?” Desjani asked.

“Yeah. It’s not the first time, though I think it’s the first time she’s done it in front of someone else.”

“Why do you tolerate it?”

“Because,” Geary replied, his eyes on the hatch, “there are times when I wonder if I can trust myself, and at those times I’m glad to have a threat hanging over me.”

Desjani considered that for a few moments. “I have to admit that she was right about a number of things. Among them that I have your back, sir.”

“I know that, but you have an oath to the Alliance, too.”

She shook her head. “We already discussed this. You won’t violate your oath, so I won’t have to violate mine. Why do you trust her?”

That was a reasonable question given that Rione was a politician, but more than that Geary had been shocked to learn that in the century of war fleet officers had developed a corrosive distrust for the elected leaders of the Alliance. So now Geary inclined his head toward the hatch through which Rione had left.

“Because despite all that she has hidden from me and everyone else, I am absolutely certain that Victoria Rione deeply loves two things. The first is her husband, who we discovered may still live and be a prisoner of the Syndics somewhere, but the second is the Alliance. She’d die for the Alliance, Tanya, just like you and I would. Don’t think that because she doesn’t wear a uniform that isn’t true. Rione is loyal to the Alliance, and I think she’s as incorruptible as a person can be. She’s often a royal pain in the butt, too, but we can trust her.”

“One good thing about Heradao,” Desjani remarked, “is that our enemies there will be easy to identify.”

She shrugged with an uncharacteristic air of melancholy. “Sometimes I miss the days before you were found, when the answer to everything was killing Syndics in any way we could and as fast as possible. They were the enemy. Victory would come when we’d killed enough of them. It didn’t work, but it was much simpler. You’ve made things much more complicated.”

“The Syndics are still the enemy,” Geary pointed out. “As long as we stay focused on that, it shouldn’t be too complicated.”

“You’re asking me to respect a politician,” she reminded him. “That is not going to be a simple or easy thing.”

He watched her for a moment, trying to understand how fleet officers like Desjani could be loyal to the Alliance yet disdain the elected leaders of the Alliance. Part of it was doubtless a very human need to find someone else to blame for the failures in the war, but Rione herself had admitted to him that the Alliance’s political leaders deserved a full share of culpability for their own actions over the last hundred years. Maybe he himself was just a living anachronism in that way, an officer who believed respect was automatically due to the leaders of the Alliance and the idea of things being otherwise was simply too hard to accept. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me that we can trust her.”

Desjani made a contemptuous noise. “I will do my best to treat her with due respect since that is my duty as an officer and you vouch for her, but I don’t ever expect to trust her.” She stepped back, toward the hatch, her eyes on him. “I’ll accept your judgment because I trust you.”

Hundreds of warships and their crews were trusting him to get them home, the fate of the Alliance and perhaps humanity itself rested on his decisions, but it was the trust of this one woman that really mattered to him. Rione had told him once that people didn’t really fight for grand causes or great purposes, but for the closest and most personal of reasons. They might say they fought for the high ideals, but in practice they fought for the comrades beside them and their loved ones at home. Geary looked back at the star display, centered on Heradao, then beyond that star to Padronis, Atalia, and finally Varandal. So very close. They’d come so far. He’d have to make sure they made it the rest of the way no matter what awaited the fleet at Heradao.

Because a lot of people trusted him to be able to get the fleet home. And one of those people was Tanya Desjani.

HE had to hold one more meeting before the fleet left Dilawa. Once in jump space, only simple and short communications could be passed between ships. There was a small and select group with whom Geary had to consult before then.

He sat in the conference room once more, but this time the table didn’t seem much larger than it really was. Around it sat the images of Captains Duellos, Tulev, and Cresida, as well as the real presences of Geary, Desjani, and Rione. “We’re getting close to home,” Geary began. “We’re not there yet, and I anticipate a nasty fight at Heradao or one of the other Syndic star systems we still have to get through. But we can feel reasonably confident of handling the Syndics. What we still don’t know is how the aliens might react to this fleet’s getting home.”

Tulev resembled a bull as he nodded slowly and stolidly. “The aliens tried to ensure this fleet’s defeat and destruction at Lakota. That argues that they will not be pleased by our making it home.”

“But what will they do?” Cresida wondered. “If our speculations are right, they could trigger the collapse of every hypernet gate in human space. Will they actually do that when we get home?”

“That’s one of the things I’m worried about,” Geary said.

“We’ll have a little time,” Rione stated quietly but confidently. Everyone else gave her a questioning look, so Rione waved one hand at the star display over the table. “Consider first of all what we know of their tactics. They don’t appear to have acted directly against either us or the Syndics. Instead, they’ve tricked us into doing harm to each other.”

“True enough,” Duellos agreed.

“Now, what do the aliens know about this fleet?” Rione continued. “That we have learned that the hypernet gates make extremely powerful weapons. Do these aliens have agents or sources of intelligence, even if only automated worms and’bots, within Alliance space? We have to assume so.”

“They had them threaded through the systems on our ships,” Cresida noted. “Those quantum-level probability-based worms. We think we found and cleared them all out, but for all we know they can activate new ones, or new ones can be triggered by certain events.”

“Exactly.” Rione pointed to the star display again, beyond Syndic space. “They’ve been watching us. They’ve been seeing how we act. Based on that, the aliens can reasonably conclude that when presented with the existence of such weapons, the Alliance will choose to use them.”

Cresida bared her teeth. “I think you’re right, Madam Co-President. They’ll wait to see if we do that, if we tell our political and military superiors that the hypernet gates in Syndic star systems can be used to wipe out the Syndics. And if our political authorities then order that such actions begin. If I’d been watching the progression of this war over the last century, I’d believe it was just a matter of time before one side used those weapons and the other retaliated in kind.”

“Thank you, Captain Cresida. After which,” Rione said, “the aliens will sit back and watch as the Alliance begins wiping out Syndic star systems, and the Syndics respond with the same tactic. The aliens wouldn’t have to lift a finger as humanity wiped itself out using weapons the aliens provided.”

Geary nodded, tasting something acidic in his throat. “So they’ll wait a little while to see what we do. That does give us some time.”

“Not too much time, Captain Geary.” Rione gazed at the star display, her expression somber. “I’ve been considering this in light of what we’ve guessed about the start of the war, that the aliens tricked the Syndics into attacking us by pretending to ally with the Syndics. But did the Syndics attack out of greed, or did the aliens tell them things that led the Syndics to believe an attack on the Alliance was a good idea?”

“What could they have told the Syndics?” Desjani demanded.

Rione gave her a look cold enough to liquefy oxygen. “Anything and everything. False intelligence that the Alliance intended to attack the Syndics, for example.”

“We didn’t have the forces in existence to allow that,” Geary objected.

“Not as far as the Syndics knew,” Rione stated sarcastically. “Why shouldn’t the Syndics have been ready to believe that the Alliance was hiding forces? But the specifics don’t matter. Stop focusing on that. They tricked the Syndics into attacking us. They can do that again.”

“Again?” Captain Cresida leaned forward, her eyes intent. “How?”

“If we don’t seem to be acting, the aliens might try to goad us into using the hypernet gates as weapons. There’s a good chance that they know we’re learning things, and they probably don’t want to give us time to apply that knowledge. We’ve speculated that the aliens have a means to cause hypernet gates to collapse. A trigger signal, somehow propagating faster than the speed of light.” She indicated different stars in the display, one by one. “Suppose a few hypernet gates collapse within Alliance space, one by one, destroying the star systems they served? Who would the Alliance blame?”

“Damn.” Geary could hear the others softly cursing as well. “If we don’t start genocidal attacks, the aliens will provoke us or the Syndics into it by making us think the other side is already doing that.”

Rione’s gaze seemed distant, but it was still fixed on one star far off to one side of the display, on the far-distant fringes of Alliance space. “Sol Star System has a hypernet gate,” she added. “Even though it stands apart from the Alliance and remains weak from the ancient wars that raged there, old Earth abides in that star system, along with the first colonies on the other planets of Sol. The homes of our most ancient and revered ancestors, circling the star we view as the foremost symbol of the living stars. It was given a hypernet gate out of respect and to ease pilgrimages there, even though economically Sol system couldn’t justify such an investment.” She looked around at the others. “What if the people of the Alliance believed that the Syndics had destroyed that star system?”

Duellos answered, his voice unusually harsh. “Nothing would stop them, no argument would dissuade them. They’d want every Syndic dead by any means possible.”

“Bloody hell.” Geary wondered why most of his contributions to these discussions were curses. “All right. We can guess that we have some brief grace period after getting home in which the aliens will wait to see if humanity takes the poison bait. If we don’t go for it within whatever period of time they think reasonable, the aliens will start trying to trigger what could well be humanity’s last offensive. I wish I knew what they wanted or intended.”

“We have no way of answering that,” Rione said. “We believe we know what they’ve done. They seem very comfortable with placing weapons in our hands and waiting for us to use them on each other. But we don’t know if they’re avoiding direct actions against us as some sort of strategy or if it reflects some moral or religious aspect of their thinking.”

“What could possibly be moral about that?” Cresida wondered.

“From an alien perspective? They could believe that simply providing the tools places no guilt on them as long we’re the ones who pull the triggers. I don’t know that, it’s just a possible explanation.”

“Or,” Tulev stated, “it could be equally possible that it is a totally amoral strategy to ensure humanity is eliminated or contained as a threat or rival in the most efficient manner possible for these aliens. We have no way of knowing, so we must base our assumptions of future actions on what they have done in the past.”

“You’re right. Unfortunately, if our guesses are accurate, what they’ve done in the past has been very bad for us.” Geary turned back to Rione. “Co-President Rione, can you put together a list of the stars with the highest symbolic importance? We’ll have to make sure those star systems get the highest priority on safe-collapse systems for their hypernet gates.”

“Do you think such a thing could be done? Opinions on levels of symbolic importance will vary.” She eyed Geary for a long moment. “If they wish to incite a massive retaliation against the Syndics, the aliens might target the home star system of the fleet commander and legendary hero Black Jack Geary.”

His breath caught, his eyes suddenly seeing not the compartment they were in or the companions with him, but the world where he’d grown up. The world where his parents and other family members were buried. Home, even though it had surely changed a lot in the century he had been in survival sleep. He imagined a shock wave hitting it like the one that had devastated Lakota Star System, instantly turning a pleasant, well-populated world into a corner of hell and a charnel house. How could he accept a low priority for his home world? Geary’s vision cleared and he looked at those with him. They all had their own home worlds. Which one did he bump down in priority for his home?

Geary sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not very good at making the sorts of decisions reserved for the living stars, I’m afraid. Madam Co-President, if you could just make your best appraisal—”

“You think I’m qualified to play at being a deity? Or desire to do so?” Rione cut in, her voice clipped with anger.

Tulev spoke into the awkward silence that followed. “I will make the list.” He gazed into the star display, his eyes distant. “I have nothing left to bias me.”

The image of Duellos on one side of Tulev leaned forward, resting a hand on Tulev’s wrist, while from the other side Desjani wordlessly did the same. Cresida, farther away, nodded once to him, her expression conveying understanding. Tulev nodded to each of them, then to Geary. “I’ll do it,” he repeated.

“Thank you, Captain Tulev,” Geary said. “At some point I’m going to have to tell the fleet the aliens exist, but for now I think we should continue pretending that the danger posed by the hypernet gates is simply an unintended technological side effect.”

“That’s all it has to be,” Cresida agreed. “If it’s presented as a possibility of any hypernet gate’s spontaneously collapsing at any time or subject to the Syndics causing a collapse, backed up by images of what happened at Lakota, then people will have all the reasons they need to act.”

“Okay. We’ll talk again before we jump for Varandal. Thank you for coming to this meeting, thank you for your advice, and thank you for your continued discretion on what we think is true about these aliens.”

“If only we knew more,” Cresida commented. “I’m still working on my design for a safe-fail system we can install on hypernet gates as quickly and easily as possible. I think I’ll have it ready by the time we reach Atalia.”

“Let’s hope so.” Duellos sighed. “Since we know so little of what these creatures may do or what they want.”

“Feathers or lead?” Desjani asked, invoking the ancient riddle in which only the demon asking the question knew the right answer and could change it at any time. As Duellos had once pointed out, the aliens, too, were riddles in which both the answers and the questions did not just remain unknown but also reflected thought processes estranged from the humans trying to understand their purposes and meaning.

“That’s my question, Captain Desjani. I’ll thank you not to play demon with my riddle. Just out of curiosity, though, what was the right answer this time?”

She smiled unpleasantly. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Women can be just as enigmatic as demons.”

“You don’t honestly think I’m going to touch that line, do you?”

As the images of Tulev, Cresida, and Duellos disappeared, Desjani frowned down at her personal data unit. “Excuse me, sir, but I’m needed in engineering.” She hastened out, leaving Geary and Rione alone. Rione, seeming uncharacteristically subdued, turned to go as well, but stopped before leaving. Standing near the hatch and still facing it, she spoke to Geary. “What happened to Captain Tulev? He said he had nothing left.”

Geary nodded, recalling the personnel files he had read. “His family, wife, and children died in a Syndic bombardment of their home world.”

“Oh, damn.” Rione shook her head. “That’s horrible, but it should’ve left something. Some other relatives. What world was it?”

He tried to remember. There were so many worlds. “Elys… Elysa?”

“Elyzia?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Geary stared at her, bothered that the name had come so readily to her. “What happened to it?”

“Syndic bombardment,” Rione murmured so low he almost didn’t hear. “But prolonged, part of a very large strike at the Alliance. Most of the world’s surface was devastated, the great majority of the population killed. After the Syndics were repelled, the world was written off, the survivors evacuated except for a few who insisted on staying to occupy rebuilt defensive installations, in case the Syndics ever came back. Captain Tulev spoke the literal truth. He has nothing left.” She looked directly at him.

“Except the fleet. Did you realize that you and he share that?”

“No.” Geary searched for other words and couldn’t find any.

“We retaliated at Yunren,” Rione continued, as if speaking to herself. “A Syndic border star system. There’s nothing left of Yunren, either, except a few defenses occupied by diehards who continue to live only for the chance to kill some of those who wiped out their world. Both sides have avoided repeating that since then, though I don’t know if that’s because it takes so much work to devastate an entire world or because everyone was horrified at how low we had sunk.”

Geary shook his head, feeling sick inside. “How could anyone give such orders?”

“Oh, it’s easy enough, Captain Geary. You just have to form your plans somewhere far from the enemy while looking at a large star display with lots of little planets on it. Just dots with strange names. Targets. Not the homes of people like you, but targets that must be wiped out in the name of protecting people like you. It’s very easy,” she repeated, “to rationalize the murder of millions or billions.”

“That’s strange,” Geary commented. “I’ve talked to Marines. They say they have to dehumanize the individuals they kill in order to be able to fight, and they have to worry that the process will go too far and they’ll kill individuals who aren’t really a threat. But on the other end of the scale, the highest-ranking individuals, who’ll never confront an individual enemy, have to dehumanize them by the hundreds, thousands, or millions.”

She turned to look at him. “I sometimes wonder if the aliens are right, and that humanity can be counted upon to wipe itself out someday.”

“I hope not. Personally viewing the events at Lakota seems to have impressed a lot of people in this fleet. There’s no way to distance yourself from events when you watch a habitable planet be devastated that way by a single blow.”

“It does appear to have had a strong impact. What about Captain Cresida? The way she looked at Tulev as if they shared something. Was her family from Elyzia as well?”

“No,” Geary replied. “Her husband was a fleet officer. They were married about a year before he died in battle.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years.”

Rione nodded. “After ten years I still expect to see my husband sometimes. Would Captain Cresida accept condolences from me?”

“I think so. She’s never spoken of it to me, but you do share that kind of loss.”

Her sigh came out slow and long, like the last breath of a dying runner. “I don’t know if the living stars truly arranged for you to be here now, John Geary, but there are times when I think about this war and pray desperately that they did, and that you can bring an end to this.”

She left then, leaving Geary looking at the closed hatch.