Tyrosian raised her eyebrows. “That’s a lot of raw material, Captain Geary. At the rate we can mine and transport it here, it’d take weeks.”
“I can’t promise weeks, but we’ll take every day we can.”
“I feel obligated to remind you as well that all the extra mass will adversely affect the maneuvering capabilities of my ships. Titan, in particular, since she’s the largest. But Witch, Jinn, and Goblin will all get a lot more sluggish as well.”
Geary felt an increasingly familiar pain behind his eyes. “How bad will Titan’s ability to accelerate be if her raw material bunkers are topped off?”
Tyrosian looked to one side, apparently working some controls. “Here’s Titan’s performance at full load, Captain Geary.”
Geary exhaled as he read the data Captain Tyrosian displayed. “She’ll be a real flying pig, won’t she?”
“We usually use the term flying elephant. A flying pig would probably be much more maneuverable than Titan with a full load.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the heads-up.”
Tyrosian looked questioning. “Do you still want Titan’s bunkers topped off, sir?”
Geary rubbed the place between his eyes to try to push back the throbbing there. “Yes. If we can’t manufacture what we need for the long haul, it won’t matter how fast we can move for the short haul. If I have to choose, I want to be prepared for the long run.”
“Yes, sir. You need it, we build it.”
The old motto of the fleet engineers, unchanged since Geary’s time, brought a smile to his face. “Thank you, Captain Tyrosian. I know I can always count on you and your ships.” The statement made Tyrosian smile as well.
Geary made his way back to his stateroom, cheered by his dealings with Captain Tyrosian but still looking forward to relaxing and pretending to be away from the demands of being in charge of the fleet. But he found someone waiting outside of the hatch leading to his stateroom. “Madam Co-President.” Geary hoped his weariness and lack of desire for conversation didn’t come through too clearly. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”
She inclined her head to acknowledge the greeting, then gestured toward the hatch. “I wish to speak to you privately, Captain Geary.”
“I don’t want to seem unwelcoming, but is there another time we can do that? I’ve been pretty heavily occupied lately.”
“So I’ve noticed.” Rione gave him an arch look. “You’ve been so heavily occupied, that I’ve been frustrated in my other attempts to meet with you. I would very much like to speak with you now.”
Geary managed not to sigh too heavily. “Okay. Please come in.” He let her enter first, then waved her to one seat while he unceremoniously flopped into another.
That earned him another look from Rione. “You don’t seem to be the iron-willed hero of legend today, Captain Geary.”
“The iron-willed hero of legend is damned tired today, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
Rione seemed a little surprised by Geary’s directness, but she finally sat down in the offered seat. “My question is a simple one. What are you planning, Captain Geary?”
Geary shrugged. “As I’ve stated every time I’ve been asked that question, I’m planning on getting this fleet home.”
“Then why are we lingering at Kaliban?”
The woman does have a gift for asking awkward questions. Geary considered her for a moment before answering. “We need some time. We’re not sitting idle. As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re getting raw materials to the ships that can use them, Titan and her sisters are churning out new fuel cells as well as replacements for the equipment we’ve had damaged or destroyed and the weapons we’ve expended, we’re getting some major external repairs done to some of our ships that couldn’t be accomplished in jump space, we’re scavenging through the abandoned installations here for anything we can use, and most important of all, we’re training.”
“Training.” Rione’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”
“As I’m also sure you’re aware, Madam Co-President, we’re training for combat. The next time we face a large Syndic force, I want this fleet to operate like a military organization instead of an untrained mob of well-intentioned but overaggressive warriors.” Damn. He had to be careful not to be too blunt with Rione. It wouldn’t do to have a phrase like that repeated too widely.
“Captain Geary, I told you when first we met that this fleet is brittle. You agreed with me. How can you now speak of facing a large enemy force?” Rione’s voice had gotten flatter and harder as she spoke.
Geary, wishing he could strengthen shields around himself against the force of Rione’s words, simply nodded. “I agreed with you then. But brittle metal can be reforged, Madam Co-President. It can be made strong again.”
“To what purpose?”
Okay. She doesn’t trust me at all when it comes to things like this, I guess. Fine. Trust me or not, all she’ll get from me is the truth. “To get home. I mean that. Look.” Geary reached forward far enough to push in a command he’d learned by heart, then waved at the display of stars that appeared over the table between them. “We’re a long way from home by system jumps. I can keep trying to outguess the Syndics and try to plan far enough ahead to keep them from trapping us, but I can’t count on them never second-guessing me, never getting lucky. That means I can’t count on never running into some Syndic force that could hurt us badly. What’s going to happen then? If this fleet is still the force I led out of the Syndic home system, it’ll run the risk of being broken and destroyed. But, Madam Co-President, if I can teach these sailors to fight smart as well as brave, then we’ll be able to fight our way through that Syndic force.”
She watched him for a long time without speaking, her thoughts impossible for Geary to read. Finally, she spoke in a slightly less harsh voice. “You believe you can do this?”
“I hope I can.” Geary hunched forward, trying to project his feelings. “These are good sailors. Good officers. Good captains. For the most part, good captains. I’m sure you know there are some exceptions, but there always have been and always will be. All they need is someone they believe in, who they’ll listen to, to show them how to win.”
“Because they trust you.”
“Yes, dammit! What the hell’s the matter with that? I’ve yet to take one single action to betray that trust, and I never will.”
“Is that an oath, Captain Geary?” Rione’s voice had become very soft but also very clear. “Do you swear that on the honor of your ancestors?”
Geary wondered if Rione knew about his occasional visits to the ancestral spaces, and guessed she’d probably picked up as much information about them as anyone could. “Of course I do.”
“And the Alliance itself? The elected leadership of the peoples of the Alliance?”
Geary stared at her. “What about them?”
Rione glared back, exasperation showing in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. “If I only knew whether you were truly naïve or simply playacting! Captain Geary, you are a figure of legend. What sort of power do you think you will be able to wield if you return to the Alliance with this fleet at your back? Black Jack Geary, the paragon of Alliance officers, the hero of the past, the man every Alliance youth is taught to revere, back from the dead with a mighty fleet he has literally saved from total loss! A fleet you say will be trained to be far better than other Alliance forces. What will become of the Alliance then, Captain Geary? You will hold the Alliance within the palm of your hand, to dispose of as you wish. You know this is true! What will you do?”
“I…” Geary looked away, discomforted by her words and the intensity of the feelings behind them. “I’ll…I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought that far…but, no. No! I don’t want that kind of power. I don’t want to tell the elected leaders of the Alliance what to do. I want…” To get home? Home, for him, was dead and gone. What would be left for him when this mission was done? What life could he hope for? “I want…”
> “What, Captain Geary? What do you want, more than anything?”
Geary, worn out mentally and physically by the exertions of the last few days, felt a wave of cold washing over him. “More than once, Madam Co-President, I have wanted more than anything to have died on my ship a century ago.” He regretted the words as soon as he’d spoken them, words and thoughts he hadn’t revealed to anyone else, but which had broken through internal barriers weakened by tiredness and stress.
Rione seemed taken aback for a moment. She watched him silently for a while, then nodded. “Could you walk away from it, Captain Geary? If we get home, can you walk away from the power to decide the fate of the Alliance?”
He took a long, deep breath. “In all honesty, I think I have that power already. If I can get this fleet back, with the device you know is on Dauntless, the Alliance has a real good chance of forcing the Syndics to negotiate in earnest to end this war. But if I don’t, if we’re lost out here, the Syndics will have a very large military advantage, and I can’t imagine they won’t press that advantage for all it’s worth. So, one way or the other, what I manage to do is going to determine a lot about what happens to the Alliance.” Geary looked straight into Rione’s eyes. “I swear I’d walk away from it this instant if I could. But I can’t. You know that, don’t you? There’s no one else here who has a chance of getting this fleet home. I’ve tried to tell myself I’m not indispensable, that there are other officers here who could get this fleet back. But I know it’s not true.”
Rione’s eyes and expression were unyielding. “Democracies and republics cannot live with indispensable men or women, Captain Geary.”
“It’s only until I get this fleet back! Once we get back to the Alliance, Madam Co-President, I fully intend turning over command to the first admiral I meet and then finding a nice quiet planet to hide on for the rest of my life.” Geary stood up and paced despite his weariness. “That’s all anyone can ask of me. That’s all the honor of my ancestors can possibly demand. I’ll resign this command and my commission and go to…to…”
“Where, Captain Geary?” Rione sounded weary now, too, though Geary couldn’t imagine why. “What planet do you think would grant you refuge against the ancient glory of Black Jack Geary and the modern adulation for the man who saved the Alliance fleet and perhaps the Alliance itself?”
“I…” Geary cast about for a name, knowing his own home world would never be such a refuge, knowing it might well have changed beyond recognition in a century’s time and actually fearing to see the sort of monuments to Black Jack Geary that surely existed there, and settled on the one planet he’d heard the most of in the last several weeks. “Kosatka.”
“Kosatka?” This time Rione laughed, though with more disbelief than humor. “I told you before, Captain Geary. Your fate does not lie on Kosatka. Kosatka is a good world, but it is not a mighty world. Kosatka could not hold you now.”
“I’m not—”
“No one planet could hold you now, regardless of where you believe your duty must take you.” Rione stood as well, her eyes still fixed on Geary. “But if it proves necessary to hold you, if someone must act to contain your power, then I will do my best.”
He stared back at her, not believing what he’d heard. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m merely informing you that should you attempt to reach out and take what could be yours, I will be there to stay your hand.” She turned to go, then faced him again. “And lest you doubt, Captain Geary, I am not indispensable. Even if I am lost, there will be others.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“There you are surely wrong. Don’t mistake me. I’m not prejudging you, and what you have done are arguably things that needed to be done to save this fleet. If you hold to your vow to reject the power that will be yours, you’ll have no truer ally than me. But you must not pretend there will be no temptation, Captain Geary. You must not pretend that there won’t be those urging you to take certain actions allegedly for the sake of the Alliance, actions that may then appear justifiable to you but that will destroy everything you claim to honor.”
He glared at her. “I’m not the kind of person who’d do that sort of thing.”
“Is Black Jack Geary that kind of person?”
“What?” He shook his head several times as if to clear it, puzzled that she’d actually posed the question. “I have no idea. I don’t know who that imaginary hero is. I don’t know what he’s like. All I know is he’s not me.”
Rione shook her own head, but slowly in clear negation of Geary’s last statement. “I regret to say that you are wrong. No matter who you think you are, you must realize that, in every way that matters in this universe, you are Black Jack Geary.”
“Then perhaps you’d care to explain to me why I have to work so hard to keep most of these commanding officers happy if they believe in Black Jack Geary so damn much!”
Rione’s mouth twisted. “You said it yourself. They believe in Black Jack Geary, Captain. In their minds, that person must be exceptional in every way. If they come to believe that you are not Black Jack Geary as they imagine that person must be, they would no longer believe in you.”
“So you’re saying I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t? That in order to save this fleet, I have to be exceptional in every way? I have to effectively become the person they think Black Jack Geary is or this fleet will be lost? But just how am I supposed to be exceptional in every way?”
“I’m afraid I cannot help you there, Captain Geary.” Rione inclined her head again, then departed.
Geary watched her leave, then collapsed again onto the nearest seat, two thoughts warring in his mind. What if she’s right? And what the hell did I ever do to deserve this?
* * * *
“All units in formation sigma roll port twenty degrees at time three four.” Geary waited, then buried his head in his hands as half of the ships rolled in place while the other half moved as if the entire formation were pivoting twenty degrees to port. Listen to the message! Please listen to the message! It’s not like you don’t have time to think about it before the execution time!
Outwardly, Geary spoke as calmly as he could. “All units, take care to execute the order as given.” He checked the time, rubbed his eyes, then broadcast again. “All units. That’s enough for today. Thanks for all your hard work.” I just hope they’re learning something. Not just about keeping formation, either. If they’re paying attention to how I’m calling the maneuvers to account for time-late data, they should be picking up some of that as well.
Captain Desjani looked tired, too, but smiled encouragingly. “I’ve never seen our units actually maneuver like this under battle conditions.”
“You still haven’t,” Geary noted, trying not to sound as sour as he felt. “It’s all simulated and not under the stress of actual combat.”
“I still think we’ve seen a lot of improvement.”
Geary thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. You’re right. We have. Given the amount of time we’ve been working on this, everyone has progressed quite quickly.” He checked the final disposition of the ships on the simulator, now frozen in place. “There’s been a lot of progress for just less than two weeks of running drills. But then there’s a lot of good ship handlers in this fleet.” He nodded again, this time toward Desjani. “Present company included.”
“Thank you, sir.” Desjani looked both pleased and embarrassed by the praise.
“I mean it. You can really handle this ship. You can train some people in ship handling for a star’s lifespan, and they’ll still jerk a ship around like it was a sack of lead. But you’ve got skill. You feel the ship and work with her motion.” Geary levered himself out of his seat. “I’m going to take a break before I review the next simulation scenario. How about you?”
Desjani shook her head. “There’re some things I need to take care of as commanding officer of Dauntless. No rest for the wicked, as they say.”
&nb
sp; “I don’t know about wicked, Tanya, but I do know ship captains never get much rest. Thanks for all the help you’ve given me lately.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir.” She sketched an informal salute and left.
Geary sat back down, fought a brief internal battle between a desire for downtime and the need to catch up on his own responsibilities, then called up the latest fleet status reports. There were three former Syndic asteroid mines being worked now, and a gratifying amount of pure metal had been transferred to the auxiliaries, which had kept their own workshops going to provide the fleet with desperately needed spares and replacements for expendable weapons. In addition, some food stocks had been found, still preserved by the cold in the abandoned towns where they’d been left, doubtless because shipping the food out had made no economic sense when the Syndics had left Kaliban. I have a feeling we’re all going to get very tired of Syndic food before we get home. Especially since they undoubtedly ate the stuff that tasted best first and left the stuff no one wanted. A notation on one report advised that scouts had located a storehouse of electronic components that had yielded some useful matériel that could be reworked to meet some Alliance requirements. All in all, the fleet had spent its time in Kaliban well.
An internal communication circuit chimed urgently. “Captain Geary, this is Captain Desjani.”
“Roger. What’s up?”
“They’re here.”
Geary headed for Dauntless’s bridge as fast as he could get there. It was somewhat irrational to rush since the nearest jump exit was two light-hours away, but he still felt the need.
He was still taking his seat when Desjani started briefing him. “Initial sightings indicate the Syndic force is comparable to the one that followed us through Corvus.”
Geary nodded, not commenting on the fact that he’d noticed every Alliance sailor on the Dauntless had stopped talking about the Syndic force “chasing” the Alliance fleet through Corvus. Now they always said the Syndics had simply followed. Within another few weeks, the Alliance sailors would probably be saying the Alliance fleet had somehow been chasing the Syndic force out of Corvus. As long as it salved their pride, Geary wouldn’t correct anyone. “It could actually be the same force. If it is them, they’ve gotten to Kaliban the hard way around, and they’re likely to be a little perturbed with us.”
The Lost Fleet: Dauntless Page 24
