Invincible

ELEVEN

“Duct tape?” Desjani stared at Gioninni.

“Duct tape,” Gioninni repeated.

“Duct tape,” she told Geary.

“I heard.” Geary considered the idea, outrageous though it seemed. How could a race of expert engineers be impressed by something as simple and as ancient as duct tape? “What do the other chiefs think?”

“They agreed,” Gioninni said.

Geary called Captain Smythe, who had a frazzled expression as he answered for the third time. “Yes, Admiral? I’m afraid my staff has yet to produce any answer.”

“I’ve been given one, Captain Smythe. Do you think the answer could be duct tape?”

Smythe’s expression shifted comically as his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Oh, damn. Where— A chief figured it out. Right?”

“Right. Where could the aliens have been so impressed with duct tape? When could they have seen us use it?”

“Did your emissaries talking to them—No, wait. Have they been aboard any of our ships?”

“No,” Geary said.

“They were aboard that escape pod,” Gioninni suggested.

“Escape pod?” An instant later he remembered. “The damaged escape pod from Balestra. Two of them boarded it.”

“They did?” Smythe asked. “Is there a working record of that? That pod’s systems were pretty messed up as I recall.”

“There’s the record of a comm call I made to them,” Geary said, gesturing to Desjani, who turned back to point to her communications watch, who in turn frantically ran searches.

“Got it!” the watch-stander announced. “Coming up now.”

Another image popped into existence between the images of Gioninni and Smythe. Geary once again saw the interior of the damaged escape pod, Chief Madigan near the comm panel, the two spider-wolves sealed in their space armor at the air lock. “We can’t tell what they’re looking at,” Geary said.

“No,” Smythe agreed, “but we can see, and they could see, the sailors in that pod using duct tape. Patching the hull, repairing that panel, first aid on that injured sailor. Does it really work on sucking chest wounds?”

“Yes, sir,” Master Chief Gioninni said.

Desjani nodded. “Fixing electronics, fixing hull material, fixing human bodies. That’s pretty universal, I guess.”

“That’s why every escape pod has a couple of rolls of duct tape on it,” Master Chief Gioninni pointed out. “We’ve got to inventory the stuff on a monthly basis because otherwise people sneak into the pods and carry off the duct tape to sell it or use it on their ships.”

“Sell it?” Desjani asked, her expression as she looked at Gioninni turning dangerous.

“Not on this ship, Captain,” Gioninni said. “Some folks get that idea sometimes, but they always get shown the error of their ways by older and wiser heads. Selling the duct tape out of escape pods would be like selling… oh, the parachutes out of aerospace craft. If you need that stuff, you’re really going to need it, so we make sure no one messes with it.”

“Don’t we have duct tape as part of our standard supplies?” Desjani demanded, mollified but still a little suspicious.

“Sure, Captain, but you can never have too much duct tape.”

Geary heard laughter, then realized it was coming from him. “Humanity’s gift to the universe. Duct tape.”

“We wouldn’t have made it to the stars without duct tape, Admiral,” Gioninni said.

“We also wouldn’t have made it without chiefs.”

Gioninni grinned. “Yes, sir. Uh, if I may be so bold, Admiral, why did we need to know what these particular aliens call our duct tape?”

“They want it,” Desjani said.

The master chief stopped moving for just a moment, then nodded. “How badly do they want it, Captain? We might be able to work out a real nice deal.”

Geary tried not to smile back at the master chief. “Do you happen to know anyone who’s good at working out deals. Master Chief Gioninni?”

“I might have a little expertise in that particular area, Admiral,” Gioninni said with every appearance of modesty. “Not that I do much wheeling and dealing myself, you understand. But sometimes you have to work out swaps or trades, and if the other party really wants or needs whatever you have to trade, it can provide some very nice benefits.”

“You do indeed, Master Chief,” Desjani agreed. “However, this particular deal is already done. We give them our duct tape, and they let us use their hypernet to get home. I don’t think anyone wants to risk messing up that deal, and we can’t afford to cheat or swindle the only bunch of aliens who don’t appear to be set on wiping us out.”

“I would never cheat or swindle anyone, Captain!” Gioninni declared piously, somehow also projecting shock at the very idea. “I’m the soul of fairness and honesty.”

“So I’ve heard. From you. Thank you, Master Chief. We’ll let the emissaries know that you are available to assist in the deal-making.” After Gioninni’s image vanished, Desjani looked at Geary. “Where do you suppose those spider-wolves would put Master Chief Gioninni in their pattern?”

“Let’s not find out. General Charban? Emissary Rione? We’ve identified the mystery substance. Captain Smythe, get going on hitching those four battleships to the superbattleship. How long will it take?”

Smythe scratched his cheek as he thought. “Two days, Admiral.”

“Make it one.”

“The impossible takes a little longer, Admiral. I can push for a day and a half. I won’t promise anything less than that.”

“All right.” Geary had never forgotten the old lament he had heard from the first enlisted sailors he had commanded. Why is there never enough time to do it right but always enough time to do it over? The simple logic of that had stuck with him, especially when experience proved the truth of it.

After that call ended, Geary sat looking steadily at his display for a second. “All units, be advised we intend getting under way for the next jump point in one and a half days. Ensure that you are fully ready to move at that time.”

Smythe must have gotten right to work on the towing arrangement for the captured warship because the commanding officer of Reprisal called within minutes. “Admiral, with all due respect, I have to protest the use of my ship as a tug!”

“I understand your concerns, Captain,” Geary said with all of the diplomacy he possessed. According to Rione, that wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough. “I made this decision based upon the performance of Reprisal in the recent engagement. It is critically important that we get this alien ship safely home, and I know Reprisal can be trusted to make certain that happens no matter what threats we encounter. You will be the last and strongest line of defense for that superbattleship.”

Reprisal’s commanding officer hesitated. “It’s… a position of honor?”

“Very much so.” He truly wasn’t lying. If push came to shove, it would be very comforting to know that ships as steady as those four battleships were his last bastions defending the bear-cow superbattleship.

Within the next several minutes, he repeated the same reassurances to the commanding officers of Relentless, Superb, and Splendid, then called Dreadnaught, Orion, Dependable, and Conqueror to let them know they would have the honor of operating as close-in escorts for their sister ships and the captured warship.

“Jane,” he said to his grandniece. “You’ll be commander of the close-in escorts for the superbattleship. You have to protect it.”

Captain Jane Geary nodded in reply. “I understand, Admiral.”

“You did a good job here. No one will ever doubt your courage, your initiative, or your ability.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

And there it rested (again), Jane Geary hiding behind professional courtesy to avoid discussing anything personal.

It took almost half a day more before the emissaries reported back in. “We have a deal,” Rione said. “I will caution you again about your decision to allow spider-wolf ships to accompany us back.”

“Ships? I thought it was one ship.”

“That was due to a misinterpretation on the part of General Charban and myself,” Rione explained. She didn’t seem too upset by the misinterpretation, but perhaps she was simply too worn-out by the negotiations to care at this point. “They actually want to send six ships.”

“Six ships.” Geary rubbed his chin as he thought about that. An alien flotilla brought into human space? But, on the other hand, he didn’t know what kinds of risks they might face on the way back. If a single spider-wolf ship came with them, and something happened to it, how could they ever explain that to the spider-wolves back here?

“Those six ships will escort us through spider-wolf space,” Charban added. “They will accompany us through the spider-wolf hypernet. Then they will stay with us as we head for home.”

“Do they already know where we’re going?”

“They know we want to get to the star Midway, Admiral. We had to tell them that in order to discuss their permission to go through their space.”

Could he say no? Absolutely not. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of having multiple spider-wolf ships along to look after each other. “Very well. I agree. Do they have the duct tape yet?”

“No,” Rione said. “We will hand that over, in person.” She must have noticed Geary’s reaction. “The spider-wolves insist on actually meeting with us to exchange our ‘gift’ to them in exchange for their promises. That involves some sort of embrace, I think.”

“Embrace? For the love of your ancestors, Victoria—”

“I’m not looking forward to it, but any woman has had unpleasant dating experiences,” Rione said. “I’ll just pretend this is another blind date set up by misguided friends when I was still single. A loose hug at the end, perhaps a ghost of a peck on the cheek, a vague assurance to call at some future, undefined time, and I’m home free.”

“We will both be there,” General Charban said. “We’ll need a shuttle to meet one of their shuttle equivalents. The two of us as passengers, and two of them. We’ll meet in the air locks.”

“Can their air locks mate with ours?” Geary asked.

“They don’t seem to consider that a problem, Admiral.”

“How much duct tape do you need?”

“Emissary Rione thought we should offer them a full case.”

A full case of duct tape in a fleet that had been away from home for too long and lately frantically patching damage. Geary turned to Desjani, who was apparently fighting down a case of the giggles. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, Admiral.” But her eyes slid toward Rione’s image for a moment before Desjani focused back on him.

Of course. Rione, her old rival, would have to embrace a spider-wolf. “You’re evil sometimes,” he whispered to her. “Do you have a spare case of duct tape aboard?” he asked in a normal voice.

“A full case, untouched? Probably not,” Desjani replied as if unconcerned. “When do you need it?”

“Now.”

“All right.” Desjani looked to her communications watch-stander. “Have Master Chief Gioninni call up here again. The Alliance fleet is in need of his special talents.”

Half an hour later, a shuttle left Dauntless, carrying the pilot and a Marine guard sealed into the flight deck and Rione and Charban in the passenger area, Charban holding a full, unopened case labeled ALLIANCE FLEET ISSUE, TAPE, DUCT, MULTIPURPOSE, TWENTY COUNT (NOT FOR USE ON DUCTS). Dauntless’s supply officer had just finished telling Captain Desjani that an exhaustive search had confirmed that there were no unopened cases of duct tape aboard. Desjani had not informed her supply officer that fifteen minutes earlier, Master Chief Gioninni, with such a case under one arm, had appeared on the hangar deck where General Charban awaited him.

As the shuttle lifted from Dauntless’s hangar deck and headed out toward the spider-wolf formation, a small shape detached itself from one of the spider-wolf ships and came zipping toward a rendezvous. “Even their shuttles are hot rods,” Desjani remarked.

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Geary replied.

“It’s a nice day, Admiral.”

“You mean it’s a day when Victoria Rione has to embrace a spider-wolf.”

“Is that what’s going to happen?” Desjani asked in a surprised tone that didn’t sound remotely authentic. “What do you suppose those spider-wolves are going to do when they read that duct tape can’t fix ducts? They think it can fix anything, but the only thing it can’t fix is what it’s named for.”

“They can’t read our language.”

“That’s true. At least now we know that the next time the pattern of the universe frays a little, the spider-wolves will be able to patch it up with duct tape.”

“You do realize,” Geary said, “that Victoria Rione is going to be in all of the histories? She will be the first human known to have made physical contact with a friendly alien species.”

Desjani shrugged. “The Marines made physical contact with an awful lot of bear-cows.”

“Not friendly, and I don’t think anyone can sort out who first made contact in that fight anyway.”

“There are the enigmas—”

“Given the mysteries surrounding when they first encountered humans and where, the identity of the first human the enigmas met will probably remain eternally unknown except perhaps to the enigmas themselves. And, definitely, not friendly.”

The human shuttle and the spider-wolf craft came together, the human pilot making a special effort to pilot her shuttle just as smoothly and surely as the spider-wolf craft moved. Geary had a good view of the shuttle passenger area in the video feed being sent to him, and he watched both Charban and Rione for signs of nerves. Remarkably, they appeared perfectly calm.

The two vessels came alongside each other, and the shuttle pilot glanced out from her own video feed. “At dead stop relative to alien craft. Awaiting further instructions.”

“This is Admiral Geary. Let’s wait and see what they do.”

“Yes, sir.”

He had external views from the shuttle as well, and now the one focused on the smooth egg shape that was the spider-wolf spacecraft showed an oval tube extending toward the human shuttle.

“It feels right,” Desjani commented. “That oval shape. The proportions, I mean. It’s like these spider-wolves share the same fondness we have for that Golden Mean thing.”

The tube came to rest against the side of the shuttle, and warning lights flashed before the pilot’s seat. “We’ve got hull contact. I’m not sure what’s happening.” Her voice stayed steady.

“Are they all on drugs?” Geary asked. “Why aren’t any of them nervous?”

“I picked the pilot, Admiral,” Desjani replied. “She’s as sound as they come. You’ll have to ask the emissaries if they took anything.”

“Pressure outside the air lock,” the pilot announced. “About point nine five standard. Composition of gases is within acceptable standards for humans to breathe. I can’t confirm this, but that flexible tube that joined us to the alien ship seems to have become rigid now.”

How had the spider-wolf tube formed an airtight seal against the shuttle hull? And how had it then become a rigid tube rather than the flexing object that had reached out toward the shuttle?

Rione and Charban had both heard the pilot’s report, and now Charban moved to the air lock. He turned to salute the video feed, smiling crookedly. “Here we go.”

Rione came up beside him as the inner air lock hatch cycled open, then the outer hatch. Geary saw her inhale deeply as the alien atmosphere mixed with that inside the shuttle. “Spicy,” she announced to no one in particular. “Not too sharp or pungent. Almost pleasant.”

“Maybe they smell good,” Geary speculated.

“It sounds like they smell better than we do, anyway,” Desjani replied. “Present company excepted, of course.”

He wondered what he was supposed to feel as they waited for the spider-wolves to appear. Finally, humanity was making contact with another intelligence. The enigmas refused to really converse with humans, only making threats and demands, and the bear-cows had refused to communicate at all. But the spider-wolves were intelligent and willing to talk. For the first time, humans would learn how a different intelligence viewed the universe the two species shared. In time, the crude methods used to exchange information would be refined, the two peoples would learn each other’s language, and—

The spider-wolves would still be incredibly hard to look at, Geary concluded as two of them came into view inside the oval tube, which was wide enough for them to stand side by side.

He had seen spider-wolves in armor inside Balestra’s escape pod, but armor could exaggerate many things. For the first time, seeing these spider-wolves wearing nothing but their brilliant silklike garments, he could be sure of the size. Not short like the bear-cows, but not as tall as humans, either. Perhaps a meter and a half in height, the spider-wolves were wider than humans because of the way their arms protruded outward and the middle of their abdomens swelled to the sides.

Charban offered the case of duct tape to them. “For our friends,” he said. “One of humanity’s greatest secrets and discoveries, but we freely share it with your species in the spirit of friendship and understanding.”

Somehow, the case of duct tape didn’t seem quite worthy of the language surrounding its transfer to the spider-wolves. One of the aliens extended four arms, the claws closing on the case and holding it with what struck Geary as great care, as if an immensely valuable item was being grasped.

The other spider-wolf faced Rione, who stood with a certain tenseness that he found oddly familiar. Not in her… but… Perhaps it was Rione’s earlier use of the analogy of a date that triggered his memory of his own youthful dates, the unsuccessful ones where, during the good-bye, his date had stood so. It hadn’t taken too many such experiences before he realized that slightly tense posture foretold an offered cheek instead of lips for a good-night kiss and a loose-armed “hug” with no body contact.

Did the spider-wolf feel the same way? Its four claw-tipped arms rose, swinging around slowly, to barely touch Rione, then its hideous head dipped forward just enough to barely graze her forehead as she lowered her head to mimic his gesture.

The spider-wolf dropped its “embrace” quickly and Geary saw colors shift on its face and upper abdomen. A rose shade, then something bluish, and finally a purple that spread and stayed. He and others had joked that humans might be as repulsive to the spider-wolves as the spider-wolves were to humans. If he read the reactions of this spider-wolf properly, that guess might well be right.

Desjani laughed, the sound short and soft. “She’s got guts. I hate that woman, but she’s brave. How long are they going to have to stay in quarantine?”

“That’ll be up to medical after they get back and get examined.”

“Damn.” Desjani’s voice had changed, low and intense now. “It’s really hitting me. This is a moment the human race has looked forward to, dreamed about, feared, for who knows how many thousands of years. And now it’s happening, and we’re here to watch it.”

“Pretty awesome, isn’t it?” Geary said.

“Am I still being evil if I hope that I can see the spider-wolf delegation we take back with us embracing the politicians on the Alliance grand council?”

“No.” He had a vision of Senator Suva in the embrace of a spider-wolf and smiled. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself.”

The first spider-wolf was speaking in the high-pitched, rapid buzz of the alien language. Its arms waved in what looked like carefully made gestures, ending folded across the front of its body, the claws clicking several times before the creature bowed toward Charban and Rione. It gestured again, this time pointing in the direction of one of the jump points, then pointed back to the humans with all four arms.

Charban hesitated, then slowly brought his arm up in a salute, lowered it, and backed away.

Rione spread her hands, smiling, and nodded to the spider-wolves before she stepped back as well.

The spider-wolves both backed down the oval tube, vanishing from Geary’s view.

“Now what?” Rione asked Charban.

“We close the hatch, I suppose.” General Charban cycled the outer and the inner air lock hatches closed, then stood with uncertainty obvious in his stance.

The pilot had been staring at her own video feed of the passenger area, but she now reacted to an alert on the panel before her. “Atmosphere outside the air lock is dropping very rapidly. Down, down, gone. Whatever was in contact with the shuttle hull is also gone.”

“Bring it home,” Geary ordered. “Follow quarantine procedures for all personnel and the shuttle.”

“I understand, Admiral. Returning to Dauntless now.”

The two small craft separated, each heading back to its own kind.

The moment was over, yet as Geary watched the returning shuttle, he thought that the pattern the spider-wolves spoke of had been altered in ways that no amount of duct tape could ever return to its former state.

The shuttle was just arriving at Dauntless when the spider-wolf craft zipped into a larger ship, which promptly turned and headed for another jump point than the one the humans had been told to proceed toward. Nearly simultaneously, one of the curving arms of the spider-wolf formation unraveled as six spider-wolf ships broke free and cut forward to a point between the Alliance fleet and the designated jump point.

“Our escorts, I presume,” Geary commented, as the six spider-wolf ships slid to a halt relative to the human warships. He called down to the civilian experts, knowing they would have been watching everything, and found a cross-looking Dr. Shwartz answering. “Is anything wrong?”

Shwartz took a deep breath before answering. “I am sorry for being unprofessional, Admiral, but do you have any idea how hard it was to watch that meeting and not be able to participate?”

“I regret that, Doctor, but the spider-wolves said only two human representatives, and both Emissary Rione and General Charban were specifically designated by the Alliance government as our leads for contact with alien species. I couldn’t choose anyone over them without a very good reason.”

“Yes, I know,” Shwartz said. “That’s why I admitted to being unprofessional. But, still… all my life I dreamed of that moment, Admiral, and I freely admit that in my dreams, I was the one greeting the aliens firsthand.”

“A lot of people dreamed that dream, Doctor. You got to see it happen.” Shwartz grinned. “Our two emissaries are going to be busy for a while being run through every health test our medical doctors can dream up. Our escort through spider-wolf space has already moved into position, but we won’t be ready to go for another twelve hours. Can you and Dr. Setin contact the spider-wolves and let them know that?”

“Twelve hours?” Dr. Shwartz questioned. “Twelve is easy. Hours, well, that will take some work. I will get my comrades on it, though I should warn you that they are sulking worse than I am at the moment.”

“Good luck, Dr. Shwartz.”

She smiled again. “Thank you, Admiral.”

He signed off, then noticed Desjani glowering in her seat. “What?”

“We’re having a problem with Commander Benan down at the quarantine site,” Desjani grumbled.

“What’s the problem?”

“He’s insisting on seeing her. The docs say no. I’m about to have him arrested.”

Geary tensed, then relaxed himself. “He wants to see her? In person, or just communication?”

She replied with an annoyed look. “Let me check… All right. He says he wants to see her image, talk to her. The docs want to work in peace.”

“Give Commander Benan comm access to his wife,” Geary ordered.

Desjani’s expression this time was startled. “Excuse me, sir.”

“What?”

“You used your ‘command voice.’ You don’t have to use your command voice with me. You know that.” She hit a control. “Commander Benan has authorization for comms with his wife. Video and audio. I don’t care. Just make it happen. Tell the medical staff that the admiral ordered it, and if they don’t like it, they can debate the matter with him.”

“I’m sorry, Tanya,” Geary said. “Commander Benan’s actions, his lack of self-control, are the result of something that was done to him.”

“I know,” she shot back. “The Syndics—”

“And the Alliance. I told you that.”

“Fine. You didn’t tell me what was done.” Her gaze challenged him.

“It’s very highly classified, Tanya. If I tell you, it could cause difficulties for you.”

“Difficulties?” She laughed. “Oh, mercy, no! Difficulties? Whatever would I do without my guardian and protector to keep difficulties from me?”

“All right,” Geary admitted. “That did sound a little condescending—”

“Duh.”

“—but it’s not as if you don’t already have enough to worry about.”

Desjani snorted derisively. “Speaking of things I need to worry about, we both agree that Commander Benan is an accident waiting to happen. Since he is on my ship, and if he flies off the handle it will imperil my ship, perhaps it would be a good idea to let me know exactly what’s going on aboard my ship so that I can help control the situation.”

“You’ve got a point, even if you are driving it home with a jackhammer. Once we reenter jump space, I’ll tell you.”

Her eyebrows went up. “You can’t tell me in real space?”

“I just think I’ll be too busy,” Geary said. “Speaking of which…” He put in a call to Captain Smythe.

“It’s still twelve more hours,” Smythe announced before Geary could say anything. “Not a minute less.”

“Our escorts are waiting,” Geary pointed out.

“Unless our escorts intend helping to haul along that monstrosity you call a superbattleship, I suggest they continue waiting until I’ve gotten rigging the tow job done properly.”

“That wasn’t actually why I called. There’s an update on Orion.”

“Oh.” Captain Smythe nodded. “She’s been hit too hard, too often. The repair patches are what’s holding Orion together more than anything now.”

“Is she or is she not capable of facing combat? This update hedges and avoids giving a straight answer.”

The senior engineer frowned, checking his own readout. “It looks straightforward to me. Points in the structure where stress has accumulated, areas of the hull where armor is judged weak, cumulative effects of multiple repairs on systems… What is the problem, Admiral?”

“It doesn’t tell me whether or not Orion is still combat capable,” Geary repeated.

“That’s not our call to make, Admiral. We tell you what state the ship is in. You decide how and when to risk it. Orion has not exceeded any of the measures by which a ship is definitely declared unsafe or unable to carry out its basic functions. But it has a great many measures by which the ship is marginal. Another volley from the Kicks at Orion in that last engagement, and we would very likely have been salvaging pieces of her after the battle. I didn’t pick her as one of the battleships for towing the captured bear-cow ship because I was worried about Orion’s ability to survive the extra stress on her structure.”

Smythe was right, unfortunately. This was a case where Geary couldn’t defer to the judgment of the engineers. He would have to make the call himself. “Very well, Captain Smythe.” He paused, unable to resist his next words. “It’s still twelve hours?”

“It’s only eleven hours and fifty-seven minutes now, Admiral.”

Geary called Commander Shen, seeing him in one of the passageways of Orion, where Shen had answered on the nearest comm panel. “How is your ship, Captain?” Geary asked bluntly.

“She’s been in better condition.” Shen looked around. “I could not ask for a better crew, nor a harder working crew, but there’s been a lot to do.”

“Do you consider Orion to be combat capable?”

Shen paused, eyes hooded as he considered his reply, his usual dissatisfied expression no clue to his thoughts. “Orion is not front-line capable,” he finally said. “She can fight. We have our shields back on maximum, and about one-third of our weapons operational.”

“I saw that,” Geary said. “A remarkable achievement given the damage that Orion has sustained in the last two fights.”

“Thank you, sir. However, we have numerous patches on our hull armor, and two-thirds of our weapons are not operational.” Shen looked around again, viewing those of his crew who were in sight. “We are understrength as a result of battle casualties even though we have received a number of replacements who are former members of the crew of Invincible. They have rendered good service even though most seem to consider reassignment to a battleship from a battle cruiser to be the equivalent of being banished to the third ring of hell.”

“Your primary assignment will be defense of the captured superbattleship. Do you feel that Orion can provide that service?”

“I have no doubt of it, Admiral.”

“Then I will continue to list Orion as combat capable. Please let your crew know that they have the most important assignment in the fleet. We must get that superbattleship home in one piece. I am entrusting it to Orion because I know Orion can do the job.”

Was that a ghost of a smile breaking through the rigid strata of Shen’s usual sourness? “I will ensure that my crew is aware of what you have said, Admiral.”

As he ended that call, Geary noticed Desjani gazing somberly straight ahead. “What’s the matter?”

She looked over at him. “Shen and I are old friends. Shipmates. I don’t want to see him die, too. I’ve lost too many shipmates over the years.”

“Why do you think—?”

“I know him, Admiral, and you’re beginning to know him. You know he meant what he said. Shen will defend that captured superbattleship to the last even though Orion is coming apart at the seams. And I know why you wanted him and Orion to be on that job despite the material condition of Orion.”

He watched her, a tight feeling inside him. “Why?”

She leaned close, inside his privacy field so no one else on the bridge could hear what she said, her eyes on his. “Because,” Desjani said in a low voice, “you’re worried that Captain Jane Geary will take Dreadnaught off on another glorious charge, leaving the superbattleship undefended, and you know that this time Shen won’t follow her, and if he doesn’t follow Dreadnaught with Orion, then Dependable and Conqueror will also stay with that superbattleship. Commander Shen and Orion are your insurance against Jane Geary’s seeking glory again.”

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that he would not risk Shen and Orion that way, but in his heart he knew that he could not deny Desjani’s words.