Invincible

TWO

The conference room could really hold only a dozen people or so, but the meeting software allowed it to “expand” to fit the number of individuals attending meetings virtually. Geary looked down the long length of the table, which had apparently expanded in size to match the numbers of officers present. The commanding officers of every ship in the fleet looked back at him, along with other individuals such as Lieutenant Iger, the fleet’s chief medical officer Captain Nasr, both General Charban and Emissary Rione, and some of the civilian experts on intelligent aliens.

A few others were hidden from sight and hearing by the rest of the participants except for Geary and Desjani. Those few, picked representatives from the former prisoners of war now berthed on Mistral and Typhoon, were being allowed to watch and listen to the proceedings. If their many high-ranking and self-important peers on those same assault transports knew, they would all clamor for seats (and voices) in the meeting as well, and that simply wasn’t going to happen.

Far too many of the meetings held in here since Geary had assumed command of the fleet had involved far too much drama for Geary’s taste. During the century he had been in survival sleep, fleet conferences had degenerated into political free-for-alls in which fleet commanders vied for support from their subordinates. When he was found and awakened, it was to discover that he, Captain Geary, was by far the most senior captain in the Alliance fleet, with a date of rank nearly a century before. That hadn’t mattered to him, but it had meant that when Admiral Bloch died, Geary had been the next in line to command the fleet by seniority, by Bloch’s own last command, and by the requirements of what Geary saw as his duty. Enough of the then-commanders of the fleet’s ships had been swayed by one or more of those factors to agree to Geary’s assuming command. The entire process, of not just soliciting advice from subordinates but of cultivating their support for his own position in command, had struck Geary as outrageously wrong. Back then, he had only dimly grasped how badly a century of bloody war had battered the structure of the fleet and the nature of its officers.

He was fixing that. Slowly and all-too-often painfully, but meetings now tended to be much more professional. “My first order of business,” Geary said, “is to express my appreciation for the skill with which the fleet fought our last engagement. Well done.”

He would have had a great deal of trouble saying that if Captain Vente of what had been the latest Invincible (but was now a rapidly expanding ball of dust following the controlled detonation of its power core) had been present. However, as Vente was no longer a ship’s commanding officer, he had no right to attend this meeting. Right now Vente was sitting in a spare stateroom on Tanuki oblivious to this conference. “We took some losses, too,” Geary continued. “May the ancestors of the dead welcome them with the honor they deserve.”

Captain Badaya scowled, his eyes on the table’s surface. “We’ll avenge Invincible. Perhaps the Alliance will finally stop giving that ill-omened name to new battle cruisers.”

“It shouldn’t happen again,” Captain Vitali of Daring pointed out. “They’ve stopped building new ships since the war ended. There are no new battle cruisers under construction to give that name.”

Geary’s eyes went to meet the gaze of Captain Smythe, who made no gesture or expression but nonetheless conveyed his understanding of the same thing that Geary was thinking. There were new warships being constructed by the Alliance government if what Smythe and his staff had uncovered was true, but that fact was being kept secret from Geary and everyone else in this fleet. Why that was so was just one of the questions Geary had to resolve.

For now, it was best to get the conversation onto other tracks. “I want to make special note of the performance of Orion in the recent engagement.”

Commander Shen nodded gruffly in acknowledgment of Geary’s words as the other officers offered approving words and gestures. Most of the other officers, anyway. A few, perhaps out of lingering loyalty to the disgraced Captain Numos, kept their expressions neutral. And Captain Jane Geary seemed to be trying to suppress unhappiness at seeing Shen singled out.

“My crew deserves the credit,” Shen said, his habitually dissatisfied expression in full force. Shen was no diplomat and seemed oblivious to the idea of currying favor with his superiors, but Orion had fought well in the recent engagement, fought well for the first time in Geary’s experience with this fleet. Perhaps Desjani was right and, despite his rough edges, Shen would be the commander to finally turn Orion around.

“The second item,” Geary continued, “is what we know about how the aliens diverted that rock we fired at their orbital fortress. The answer at this point is nothing. You’ve all been given full access to the sensor readings. I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

Commander Neeson of Implacable spoke up first. “I thought initially that it might be magnetics. That is, a very powerful, highly focused magnetic field projected to divert anything fired at that fortress as long as it was the right kind of metal. But our sensors should have spotted a magnetic field that strong.”

Captain Hiyen of Reprisal nodded judiciously. “Yet the activity matched what we would have seen if that were the case. Which means it was something that acted like such a magnetic field. Perhaps it would be equally effective against nonmagnetic substances.”

“And this something would be… ?” Captain Duellos of Inspire asked.

“I have no idea,” Hiyen replied. “All I can say with confidence is that whatever it is must require an immense amount of power to generate.”

“I agree. More power than any ship could produce,” Neeson said.

Captain Tulev nodded, his voice somber. “So now we know why that fortress is so large. It must be to carry the power generators necessary to produce its defensive mechanism.”

Since the death of Captain Cresida, Neeson and Hiyen were two of the best surviving scientific theorists among the fleet’s officers. Having heard from the theorists, Geary looked to Captain Smythe. “What do the engineers think?”

Smythe spread his hands in a gesture of ignorance. “The consensus among my engineers is that the aliens can’t do that without, as the commander remarked, projecting very strong and localized magnetic fields. Which they did not. Therefore, in a practical sense, we have no idea how they did it.”

General Carabali, commander of the Marines embarked with the fleet, suddenly hit the table with her fist. “However they do it, their primary planet must have the same defense.”

Everyone looked at her, then Desjani nodded back. “It must. Good thing we didn’t waste any kinetic projectiles on a retaliatory bombardment.”

General Charban was still staring at Carabali. “That kind of defensive system would be invaluable to us. To render our planets invulnerable to bombardment from space…”

He didn’t have to finish the thought. During the century-long war with the Syndicate Worlds, uncounted numbers of human beings had died in such bombardments, and entire worlds had been devastated.

“How do we get it?” Rione asked, her voice harsh in the silence that had followed Charban’s statement. “I agree. It would be of incalculable value to us. But how do we get it? They won’t even talk to us. There’s been no response to any of our messages.”

“A raid?” Captain Badaya asked, but then answered his own question. “Even if we didn’t have to worry about them launching another several hundred of those suicide craft against us when we approached that fortress, how do we knock down the surface defenses when our bombardment can be deflected? How do we land shuttles when they might also be tossed around by that defense system?”

Carabali shook her head. “Any group of shuttles trying to reach the surface of one of those fortresses would be annihilated by the weapons we can spot on the surface. If the fleet can’t reduce those defenses, there’s no way to get any Marines into those things. Not alive, anyway.”

“What about full stealth gear?” Badaya pressed.

“I don’t have enough of that to get a decent force in place. Even if they all made it down in one piece, it would be like throwing a thimble of sand at a mountain.” Carabali paused, frowning. “We also don’t know whether or not our stealth capabilities will work against the sensors these aliens use. Maybe they would. Maybe they wouldn’t.”

Badaya grimaced. “The only way to find out would be to try.”

General Carabali’s frown darkened into a thundercloud, but before she could erupt, Geary broke in. “I’m sure that Captain Badaya isn’t suggesting that we try. He’s just noting that we have no other means of being certain what the aliens can do. An actual assault in the face of those uncertainties would be a measure of last resort, and we’re a long ways from such a point.”

Carabali relaxed a bit, while Badaya seemed briefly startled at the reaction to his statement. “Yes. Of course that’s what I meant.”

“We do know one thing,” Tulev pointed out. “The enigmas have been neighbors to these other aliens for unknown years. But they do not have this device. Our bombardments of enigma targets went home without hindrance. The enigmas, with all of their tricks and deceptions, with all of their worms and Trojan horses, with all of their combat capabilities, have not been able to acquire this thing.”

“Maybe if we tell them that we’re enemies of the enigmas—” Badaya began.

“We’ve tried,” Rione broke in. “No response.”

Badaya looked annoyed at the interruption by Rione, then focused back on Geary. “Admiral, what do we know about the species here?”

“We know they’re bloodthirsty bastards,” Captain Vitali replied. “Just like the enigmas.”

Geary tapped a control, and the image of the reconstructed alien appeared over the table, the image seeming to be directly in front of every individual in the meeting.

There was a pause. Someone laughed. Someone else cursed. “Teddy bears?” Commander Neeson finally demanded.

“Teddy bear-cows,” Desjani corrected.

Dr. Nasr frowned. “That’s not medically accurate. Their DNA is unrelated to bears or cows. However, from the pieces we found and the use of them to reconstruct one of the creatures, we are certain that they are herbivores, they are intelligent, and their hands are suited to fine motor manipulation.”

“Wait,” Badaya said. “Herbivores? We were attacked by…” He looked at Desjani. “Cows?”

“Maybe they’re slaves of some kind of predator that sent them on that suicide attack,” a cruiser commander suggested.

Lieutenant Iger shook his head. “We’ve finally cracked the video system they use. So far we’ve seen a lot of images of these creatures but nothing that even hints at anything that dominates them or is an equal. Our observation of the primary inhabited planet also shows nothing consistent with the existence of a ruling predator class. Everything is uniform. Every building. Every square meter of land. There’s no real variation in anything. A predator ruling class would have open areas around special structures.”

Duellos frowned at Iger. “No variation? A monolithic culture?”

“That’s what it looks like, sir.”

“What’s your estimate of the planetary population given what we’ve learned about these creatures?” Geary asked.

“At least thirty billion, Admiral. That’s the lowest possible estimate.” Iger heard the gasps of astonishment and looked around defiantly. “They’re packed in. Shoulder to shoulder. Everywhere.”

“Herd animals.” This time everyone looked at Professor Shwartz, one of the civilian experts. “Herd animals,” she repeated. “Herbivores. In the videos Lieutenant Iger has been able to access, we always see them in crowds, even when there is extra space in a room. They cluster together by choice. They are comfortable being in a tight group and uncomfortable being separate.”

Badaya shook his head. “That may be, but cows? Attacking us?”

“You think herbivores pose no threat?” Shwartz asked. “They can be very dangerous. One of the deadliest animals on Old Earth was the hippopotamus. Others were… elephants. And… rhinoceros… es. Rhinoceri? The point is, all herbivores. But if they thought they or their herds were threatened, they attacked. Fast, determined, and deadly. Weaponry with sufficient hitting power could stop them. Nothing else could.”

“That does sound like the engagement we just fought,” Duellos admitted.

“And it fits the lack of communication,” Shwartz added. “They aren’t interested in talking. They don’t negotiate because to them, any foe wants to kill them. Predators. You don’t negotiate with predators! You either kill them, or they kill you.”

“But they would negotiate among themselves,” Neeson suggested. “Or would they? Herd animals. They just do what the leader says, don’t they?”

“At least thirty billion,” Charban murmured, his voice getting picked up by the software and broadcast clearly. “What happens when the herd animals kill off all of the predators? The herds just get bigger and bigger.”

“Why didn’t they starve?” Badaya demanded.

“Why didn’t humans starve when their population on Old Earth went from thousands to millions to billions? We were intelligent. We learned how to produce more food. A lot more food. And these are intelligent herbivores.”

“We’re a threat,” Professor Shwartz said. “We’ve shown them images of ourselves when we tried to communicate. They can tell from what they could see of our teeth that we are at best omnivores, possibly just carnivores. They didn’t become masters of their world by being meek or passive. They must have the ability to be aggressive when they feel threatened. That means they will keep trying to destroy us, before we kill and eat them.”

“And they won’t listen when we tell them that we don’t want to eat them?” Duellos asked.

“No. Of course not. If you were a sheep, would you trust the reassurances of a wolf?”

“I don’t think I would get the opportunity to do so more than once,” Duellos replied.

“They’re like the enigmas,” Badaya said with obvious distaste. “They want to kill us, and they don’t care about the lives of their own… people. They’re willing to launch suicide attacks without hesitating.”

The moment of quiet agreement that followed was broken by General Charban. “Captain, if you were a member of an intelligent alien species, and you had observed the behavior of humanity for the past hundred years as we fought the Syndicate Worlds, would you conclude that humans cared much for the life of other humans? Or would you decide that we were willing to spend countless human lives without visible signs of hesitation or remorse?”

Badaya reddened, searching for a reply.

“It’s not the same thing,” Captain Vitali objected sharply.

Tulev spoke, his words coming out slowly. “We know this, or we think we know this, but some of the actions of humans do not do us credit. We know this ourselves as well. To an outside observer, those actions might seem even worse.”

The quiet lasted for several seconds this time. Everyone knew that Tulev’s home world had been destroyed by the Syndics. The planet was still there, but the only humans left in that star system were a pitifully few die-hard survivors who had been occupying defenses in case the Syndics ever came back. Nothing else remained but craters and wreckage on a world that no longer held other life.

“I won’t argue that,” Badaya finally said, his voice stiff. “But the fact remains that we didn’t immediately attack them when we arrived in this star system. We haven’t refused to communicate. We have to treat these creatures as enemies because they give us no choice.”

“If these are herd animals,” Captain Jane Geary of Dreadnaught remarked, “and we’re predators, then let’s act our role and make them respect us.”

“Absolutely!” Badaya agreed.

Wonderful. Now his grandniece was goading Badaya, who never needed a push to start being a loose cannon. Before Geary could reply, Desjani did, her tone dryly ironic. “These cows have guns. Big guns.”

“I never liked cows,” General Carabali added. “I like heavily armed cows even less. And I like at least thirty billion heavily armed cows least of all.”

Duellos nodded. “It would take a long time to kill thirty billion of them. They have no lack of cannon fodder, and they’re plainly willing to sacrifice members of the herd to protect the herd as a whole.”

“All right,” Geary said. “We’re still mostly speculating as to the nature of these creatures. What we do know is that they possess a defense we don’t against kinetic weapons, and they have a lot of very large warships as well as a lot of smaller attack craft. Since there are a tremendous number of them, we have to assume they have a lot of resources to throw at us. Right now we’re cutting across the outer edge of the star system toward one of the other jump points in this star system. At our current velocity, which we have to maintain in any event while repairing battle damage, it will be forty-one hours before we reach that jump point. We’ll remain on our current vector while I consider options and how to get us through that or another jump point without losing half of the fleet by going head-to-head with these bear-cows.”

“What is our goal?” Jane Geary asked.

“Our goal is to exit this star system and proceed toward another star heading back toward Alliance space.”

“That’s a final goal, Admiral. As an interim goal, we need to eliminate the threat to us.”

“Our mission is to explore and evaluate,” Geary replied in what he hoped was a level voice. “These creatures don’t seem to get on well with the enigmas, either, so I see no benefit for us in weakening them. The threat they posed may have kept the enigmas from turning all of their force and attention on humanity. Nor do I know how we can defeat them without taking serious losses. If necessary, we’ll fight our way out of here and destroy anything that tries to stop us. But I would prefer not to lose any more ships or personnel.”

Captain Bradamont of Dragon tapped a control before her, and a representation of one of the alien superbattleships appeared floating in front of her, clearly visible to everyone. Bradamont said nothing, letting the image of the alien behemoth speak for itself.

Badaya stared at the image, then nodded with visible reluctance. “Those superbattleships of theirs are very impressive.”

“They look impressive,” Jane Geary countered.

“Looks are all we have to go on. We know too little about what these creatures can do.” Badaya turned a twisted smile on General Carabali. “The Marines have no enthusiasm for learning about an enemy’s unknown combat capabilities the hard way, and I feel the same way about going up against one of those alien ships. Perhaps we can learn more, learn about vulnerabilities, but until we find those, Admiral Geary is right in choosing not to charge blindly into battle with them.”

Desjani covered up a startled sound by coughing, then gave Geary a wondering look that he understood. Badaya is saying we should avoid a blind charge into battle? Maybe he’s becoming a bit less of a loose cannon.

Captain Jane Geary, seeing that Badaya wasn’t backing her, subsided, but only for a moment. “What about the enigmas, Admiral? Are we still worrying about them?”

“I’m still worried about them,” Geary said, though in truth he hadn’t spent much effort on that recently, with so many more immediate issues to deal with. “General Charban has suggested that the presence of defenses facing the enigmas indicates this species does not have good relations with the enigmas.” He turned to where the virtual presences of two of the civilian “experts” sat. “What do you think?” he asked.

Professor Shwartz and Dr. Setin exchanged glances, then Setin spoke carefully. “The enigmas pursued us through space controlled by them, but this is not their space. Maintaining their privacy seems to have been a powerful motivation for them, but of course if they are not here, there is no danger of us violating their privacy in this star system.”

“The species here was certainly ready for immediate action against anyone coming through that jump point,” Professor Shwartz added. “As far as we know, only enigmas would be expected to be using that jump point, so as the general said, the defenses there must be against the enigmas.”

“Which means we can focus for now on dealing with this species and the threat they pose,” Geary concluded. “Anything else?”

Commander Neeson spoke up again. “A suggestion, Admiral. These aliens easily diverted the standard kinetic round we fired at their nearest fortress. Captain Smythe’s engineers can fabricate some new kinetic rounds loaded with sensors. We can fire those at the nearest orbital fortress, too, one by one, and perhaps learn more about how that defensive system works by getting more readings about whatever field or force is generated by it.”

“Good idea,” Geary agreed. “Captain Smythe?”

Smythe glanced at the auxiliaries commanders. “I think we would enjoy the challenge, Admiral. We can also construct the new projectiles using a variety of casings. Different alloys, composites, and so on, to see how the defensive system handles them. I must add, however, that this will divert some of my resources from other assigned tasks.”

“Understood.” Other assigned tasks. Mainly the ongoing effort to replace equipment on every ship of the fleet that was reaching the end of its planned life span. It seemed that every time the fleet was catching up on that major problem, some other item demanded attention from the auxiliary force. “Get to it. Get my authorization before each launch, just in case we’ve seen some sort of advance in our attempts to communicate with the, uh…”

“Teddy bear-cows,” Desjani said.

“Can we just call them bear-cows?” Captain Vitali asked. “I feel ridiculous talking about fighting teddy bear-cows.”

“They are cute,” Duellos said. “Not that it matters.”

“It doesn’t,” Desjani agreed. “I can kill cute if it tries to kill me.”

“We’ll call them bear-cows,” Geary said. He wished figuring out how to escape this star system intact was as easy as deciding what to call the species that was intent on wiping out his fleet.

“I have another question,” Captain Hiyen said.

“Yes?” Geary prompted when Hiyen didn’t continue.

“Why are we even here, Admiral? Why are we scores of light-years from Syndic space and much farther from our homes? Why are we facing this situation?”

A different level of tension came to life around the table. As Geary looked from face to face, the software automatically zooming in on anyone he looked at, he saw expressions range from unhappiness to stubbornness, with all too many clearly showing sympathy for the question.

He had dreaded that question’s being asked openly because the answers were not simple ones. Not when a good portion of this fleet believed that Black Jack Geary was ruling the Alliance behind the scenes, and not when that belief was all that had prevented outright rebellion on the part of those military forces, which had suffered apparently endless casualties in an apparently endless war and blamed the civilian government for most of that. This fleet, for all its power and strength, had a hollow core born of war weariness, of too many demands for too long, of too many friends and family dead, of equipment being pushed past its designed limits, of an Alliance fraying at the seams from the strains of a century of all-out war only recently won, and of an officer corps that had been badly corrupted by internal politics while scorning the politics of the civilian government.

All Geary had to do was hold it all together despite everything that threatened to break it apart. And if he didn’t hold this fleet together now, if portions like the warships from the Callas Republic, which included Captain Hiyen and the battleship Reprisal, broke away, then none of them might make it home.

Before Geary could answer Hiyen, Victoria Rione rose to her feet. “Captain Hiyen,” she said, “if you wish to know why the ships of the Callas Republic are still with the Alliance fleet and still under the command of Admiral Geary, I am best suited to reply. I brought the orders from the Callas Republic, which set forth those commands.”

“Why?” Hiyen demanded. “We have never been told why. And now we face death again, so far from the republic? Is it too much for those who have risked their lives and seen too many friends die to ask why we cannot return to our homes?”

Rione spread her hands in a helpless gesture, everything about her conveying an impression of sympathy. “I do not know, Captain Hiyen. You know that I was voted out of the government before those orders were issued, before those decisions were made. Because I was asked by the Alliance to serve in another role with this fleet, I was tasked to bring the orders from the Callas Republic with me. But I was not asked, and I was not consulted about the orders you were given. The new Callas government made the decision.”

Captain Hiyen hesitated, then looked to Geary.

“The orders for your ships came as a surprise to me,” Geary said. True enough. He had been planning on seeing those warships head for home along with those of the Rift Federation. “As I have told you before, I did not request them. I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t happy to have your ships and your crews along with me when facing the challenges we have faced, but the Callas Republic, and the Rift Federation, are independent groupings of stars, which have only by choice aligned themselves with the Alliance. I can’t tell them what to do. I don’t want to tell them what to do. They and their people are free.”

Badaya looked upward with a resigned expression. He had suggested using force to keep the republic and the federation with the Alliance, until Geary had pointed out how similar that would have been to the actions of the despised Syndics.

“Admiral.” Commander Sinicrope of the light cruiser Florentine waved to indicate the officers near her. “This isn’t merely a matter for the allied warships. All of us from the Alliance joined to fight the Syndics. We fought to beat them. And we did. I understand the need to learn more about distant threats before they become near threats, but this is far from the Alliance, Admiral, and we are facing foes who have nothing to do with the Syndicate Worlds.”

Desjani was about to speak, but Duellos jumped in first. “Yes, we beat the Syndics. Under the command of Admiral Geary.”

“No one disputes that, Captain Duellos. I would not have followed any other commander out here.”

“And Admiral Geary had already announced that after this star, we would turn back for home.”

“Yes,” Commander Sinicrope agreed reluctantly.

Rione had remained standing and now spoke again, acting as if oblivious to the looks of barely veiled, or not-veiled-at-all, anger and contempt with which many of the officers regarded her. But her first words caused those expressions to shift to embarrassment. “I know I’m one of the enemy as far as you are concerned. Even though I have shared the dangers you have faced, even though I share them now, even though my own husband, a fleet officer, was thought dead and, though now alive and with us, has suffered greatly at the hands of the Syndics. Distrust me as you will. Think of me as you will. But think also of what we have seen in the space once controlled by the Syndicate Worlds. Think of the collapse of central authority, of spreading disorder, of worlds burdened by the human and material costs of the war and now facing the future without allies or friends.

“I want to go home, too,” Rione said in saddened tones that echoed in the silence otherwise filling the room. Hearing how well she spoke, the emotion appealing to everyone here who shared those feelings, Geary finally realized how Rione had been able to reach the high political offices she had won.

“But I can’t,” Rione continued. “Because I need to continue working to ensure that the Alliance does not go the way of the Syndicate Worlds. This fleet is a mighty symbol of the Alliance. You represent the Alliance. You are in many ways the best of the Alliance. And if you go your own ways, if you declare that the time for sacrifice for others is done, what will become of the Alliance that has looked to you, that still looks to you, not just for protection but also for examples of the virtues our ancestors held dear? You will someday go home. All of you. Except Admiral Geary.” She pointed to him so suddenly that he had no time to react and could only stand there as Rione went on. “His home is a century in the past, sacrificed in the first battle of the war, sacrificed for the Alliance. He saved this fleet, he saved the Alliance, and he will not betray you or the Alliance. I do not ask you to trust me. But trust him. Listen to him. Black Jack Geary will get you home, but if he asks you to leave that home, he has good reason. For the Alliance, and for our homes.”

She sat down, apparently oblivious to the stares turned her way and to the openmouthed shock with which Desjani watched Rione until Desjani came to her senses and snapped her jaw shut. No one else but Geary, perhaps, could have spotted the way suspicion grew in Desjani’s eyes as she banished her earlier surprise and hid her subsequent feelings about Rione’s speech.

Captain Hiyen stood up, stiff at attention. “I withdraw my question, Admiral. Not because it should not have been asked but because it has been answered.”

Feeling extremely embarrassed, Geary managed to find his voice again. “If that is all, thank you. I’ll notify you all of our plans as they develop.”

The images of the ship captains attending by virtual means vanished rapidly after Geary ended the meeting, the apparent size of the room and the table shrinking just as fast. Blinking to reorient himself to the actual size of the compartment, Geary turned to leave in Desjani’s wake, only to find Rione standing waiting for him. “Thank you,” he said.

She waved a dismissive hand. “I knew you were too humble and modest to say what needed to be said. Do you have a moment?”

“Is there something else?” He heard the accusatory edge in his voice, honed by Rione’s enigmatic behavior for the last few months, and wondered how she would respond to that.

Desjani glanced back at Rione, her own face impassive, then, at Geary’s gesture, stepped through the hatch and closed it, leaving Geary and Rione alone.

Rione nodded in reply to his question. “You know that the answer I gave in here is only a bandage on the wound. The problem still festers.”

“Believe me, I’m fully aware of that.”

“Once this fleet is on its way toward home again, it will help morale a great deal. You got them home once. They believe you will do it again.” She paused to eye him speculatively. “You will do it again, won’t you?”

This was the old Rione, taunting and sarcastic even as she offered assistance. “I hope so,” Geary answered. “At the moment, I’m not sure how we’re getting out of this star system, but I’m working on it.”

“Not alone.” She made the statement into something that sounded almost like an order.

“Tanya will help me, and I’ll pull in whatever other help I need.”

“Good. Working relationships sometimes suffer when they become personal.” Rione looked to one side, her mouth twisting. “I’m ready to answer one question, Admiral.”

He paused, eyeing her with renewed suspicion. “You’ve been acting like you’ve been carrying a lot of extra secrets ever since this mission began, Madam Emissary. Why are you willing to finally say something now?”

“Circumstances, Admiral. Assuming I did have orders unknown to you, the discovery of this new species of intelligent aliens might have triggered a different portion of them.”

“I see. One question?” He got another nod. “Fine. What are your orders?”

She gave him one of her old looks, thinly veiled amusement with a hint of superiority. “I can’t answer that one. Try another. I’d suggest asking what I will do, rather than what such orders might say.”

Geary sat down, gesturing her to one of the other seats. “Victoria, I’d be grateful to know what you’ll do.”

Sitting down, Rione met his eyes with her own. “I will do whatever I can to ensure that this fleet returns home.”

“Is that a change?”

“In what I would do or in what my orders might have said?”

“Both.”

“That’s two questions,” Rione said. “Or possibly three.”

“Can you tell me where these orders came from?”

“No.” She looked away then, her face suddenly bleak. “There’s—I promise you, Admiral. I am on your side though my actions have been constrained up until now.”

“Good.” Could he believe her? At least she was talking. “Are you working with anyone? I assume you still have agents in my fleet.”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know what happened with Captain Jane Geary? Why she started acting so aggressively?”

Rione raised an eyebrow at him. “I had nothing to do with that. I don’t know of anyone’s influencing her to act like Captain Falco’s illegitimate offspring. That’s not to say there is no one, but as far as I know, she’s made that change on her own.”

He didn’t know why he believed Rione, but he did. Whatever had made Jane Geary change her behaviors couldn’t be blamed on Rione’s actions. “What do I need to know that I don’t know?”

“That’s another question.” Rione wagged an admonishing finger at him. “You’ve become pretty aggressive yourself, Admiral.”

He hunched forward, regarding her. “I’ve got a lot of lives riding on what I do, Madam Emissary.”

“So you do.” She paused, hidden thoughts passing behind her gaze, then focused on him again. “I honestly believe that you know everything that you need to know at the moment. You may know things that I don’t.”

“I wish I knew what was driving you these days.”

Her expression went somber. “My priorities have never changed.”

Which meant the Alliance, and one particular man. “How is Paol doing?” Her husband, captured during the war, presumed dead for years, and liberated not too long ago from a Syndic labor camp. Geary had received reports from medical on Paol Benan, so he knew Commander Benan’s status, but he wanted to see what Rione said.

She didn’t answer for a moment, then shook her head. “Medical is keeping an eye on him.” It was a statement, not a question. “Watch him.”

Geary felt unease at her tone. “Are you safe?”

“I don’t know. I believe so. I suspect things were done to him by the Syndics, things he cannot recall, things invisible to those who examine him for harm. He is still a very angry man, Admiral.” Rione looked directly at him again. “I have told him he must stay away from you, or I will leave him. That is why there have been no more confrontations. I am the last anchor to who he once was that he can grasp.”

With the vast responsibilities weighing on him, with all the lives hanging on his decisions, Geary still felt a great guilt and sorrow over this relatively small human drama. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I pursued you, and you cut it off before we knew Paol was still alive. Just get this fleet home.” She was all business again. “You are properly focused on the current situation. I believe that General Charban was right that the enigmas will not pursue us here. But you cannot forget them.”

Geary sighed, sitting back and rubbing his eyes. “There are a lot of immediate problems to address. What can the enigmas do now?”

“I don’t know. Neither do you. That should concern you.”