“No, sir. The fleet’s sensors have picked up debris floating in orbit, but it’s all mangled and dispersed. That Syndic heavy-cruiser officer reported they were the only larger warship present. Based on the damage to that cruiser, any light cruisers or HuKs wouldn’t have survived. Ships without armor and military-grade shields wouldn’t have stood any chance at all here.”
Desjani pointed to the image of Kalixa. “What shape is the star in?”
“Highly unstable, but with so much solar mass blown away, it didn’t go nova itself. Nothing is going to be able to live in this star system for a long time, Captain.”
She looked at Geary, her face hard. “One hundred million. Those bastards killed one hundred million people here in a single stroke. I don’t care that they were Syndics. This can’t happen again.”
Had the aliens known what was at Kalixa? Had they cared? “At least they can’t do it again in any star system that installed the safe-fail systems.”
“Until they find another way to do it.” Desjani, aware that the watch-standers on Dauntless’s bridge were watching curiously, trying to figure out her meaning, leaned closer to the privacy field around Geary. “The aliens can’t be permitted to think they can get away with something like this. Lakota was bad enough, but at least other humans pulled the trigger there. The aliens did this.”
“Agreed. We have to stop it.” He took a long, deep breath, knowing that the images of this star system would stay with him forever. “Madam Co-President, please ensure that Senators Costa and Sakai get a good, long look at this star system. I want them to be absolutely clear on what war using hypernet gates as weapons would have involved.”
“Yes, Admiral Geary,” Rione agreed in an unusually subdued voice.
“Captain Desjani, let’s set a course for the jump point for Indras. I don’t want to spend a second longer here than we have to.”
“I’d rather be around a black hole,” Desjani agreed.
Aside from serving as an object lesson of what humanity had narrowly avoided having happen in countless other star systems, Kalixa also dampened any excessively high spirits in the fleet, reminding everyone of the risks still to be faced and the potential stakes if they failed. Watching the reactions of Dauntless’s crew, Geary wondered how they would respond if they learned that Kalixa had not been an accident or a Syndic mistake, but a deliberate act. As revolted as he was by the loss of life and destruction in Kalixa, he also wondered if his biggest challenge might involve fending off the aliens without triggering a vengeful war by humanity. His gut reaction, that the aliens had to pay for this, would be a common one. But a price that produced more human star systems devastated like this would only pitch humanity into another endless cycle of retaliation and revenge. And until they learned more about how powerful the aliens were, whether or not, as Desjani speculated, they might have other star-system-killing weapons to employ, an attempt at retaliation could easily risk many more star systems annihilated like Kalixa had been and uncounted billions more dead. As badly as I’d like someone, or something, to pay for this, all we can really do right now is what we can to keep it from happening again and find out more about the ones who did it.
Maybe there’s something else our resident Syndic can contribute to learning more.
He had the Syndic CEO Boyens brought from the brig to the interrogation room again. “We know the Syndic reserve flotilla attacked Varandal in response to the gate collapse at Kalixa,” Geary said. “You must have known the Alliance didn’t do that.”
“No,” Boyens denied, “we didn’t. Who else could have done it?”
“You’d been facing the aliens all those years.”
The CEO gazed back at Geary for a while as if trying to link the statement to the collapse of Kalixa’s gate. “They’ve never penetrated that deeply into Syndicate Worlds’ space. In any case, we reviewed the recording of the collapse that Cruiser C-875 brought to Heradao. There wasn’t any trace of alien attack on the gate. They couldn’t have done it. But we knew you’d already collapsed at least one hypernet gate in a Syndicate Worlds’ star system.”
“Are you talking about Sancere?” Geary demanded. “Where we had to prevent a gate collapse started by Syndic warships from producing the sort of devastation that happened here at Kalixa? Or do you mean Lakota, where Syndic warships took down the hypernet gate completely while this fleet was light-hours distant?”
Boyens set his jaw stubbornly. “I’ve seen records of your ships firing on the hypernet gate at Sancere.”
“To cause a safe collapse. But if you’ve seen the records that heavy cruiser brought from Kalixa, you know that there weren’t any Alliance warships at Kalixa when the gate here failed.”
“That seems to be true.” Boyens furrowed his brow in thought, staring at the deck. “The Alliance was close enough to do it. That was our reasoning. You mention the aliens, but they never collapsed a hypernet gate in the border region facing them. If they were going to attack us, why attack us so far from their border with us?”
There was something critical going on, Geary thought after the interview was over, something far more important than the Syndics blaming the Alliance for the collapse of the hypernet gates at Kalixa and Sancere as well. Something about how the Syndics thought about the aliens. Unable to figure out what it was, he filed the half-formed idea away in the back of his mind.
It took three and a half days to reach the jump point for Parnosa. As the haunted ruins of Kalixa vanished and the gray nothingness of jump space surrounded the ships, Geary could almost feel the sense of relief sweeping through Dauntless. He relaxed, too, knowing that the fleet had a long jump ahead. Eight and a half days, almost the limit for normal jump-drive range. By the end of the next week, the strange pressures of jump space would be making people nervous and irritable, but he didn’t expect any real problems from that.
Seven days later, as Geary sat watching the lights of jump space and trying not to let the strange itching sensation that grew the longer people were in jump space get to him, his hatch alert sounded with what seemed particular urgency.
A moment later, Tanya Desjani stomped into the stateroom, looking ready to tear a hole in the hull with her bare hands. “I will not tolerate that woman on my ship any longer!”
“Which woman?” Geary asked, already knowing the answer. “And what did she do?”
“The politician! You know how she’s been acting! You’ve been there when she said nice things to me!”
Geary stared for a moment. “Uh, yes, I have.”
“Haven’t you wondered why?” Without waiting for his answer, Desjani rushed on. “I finally asked her straight out, and do you know what she said? Do you?”
“No.” Monosyllabic replies seemed safest at the moment.
“Because I’m important to you. That’s what she said. I’m important to you, so she is trying to make sure I stay in a good mood.”
Obviously, Rione’s efforts had backfired. Geary just nodded silently, not even trusting a single word for a response.
Desjani raised an angry fist, her face flushing with emotion. “It’s just like those ugly suggestions that I should offer myself to you as a prize if you agreed to become dictator! I am not a toy or a pawn to be used or controlled by your enemies or your friends! I am a captain in the Alliance fleet, a position I earned by my own sweat and blood and honorable service! I will not accept anyone trying to manipulate me or use me or toy with me just because they want to influence you!”
He met her enraged gaze. “I understand.”
She glared back at him. “Do you? Can you? Would you like to live in my shadow?”
“I would never—”
“It’s not about you! It’s about everyone else in this damned universe who would look at us and see only you! I did not spend my life to get to this point so that I could become an insignificant sidekick to anyone!”
That image had never occurred to him before, and that fact bothered him. He should have realized how Bl
ack Jack would affect Tanya’s own image. “You could never be insignificant.”
“Tell it to the universe!” Desjani waved one hand as if indicating all of creation.
“I will. I’m sorry. I come with a lot of baggage.”
“I told you that this isn’t you! It’s everyone else, and how they would see me. Or not see me.” She clenched both fists. “Why did all of this have to happen? Why couldn’t my heart listen to my head? When that witch told me her motives, I had to find someone to vent to or I would’ve blown out every seal on this ship! And you’re the only one I can—But you’re also the one person I can’t—Oh, hell!” Desjani stepped back and ran both hands through her hair. “We’re very perilously close to discussing something that you and I cannot talk about.”
“Not now, no.”
“Not until … Have you rethought it at all? Your giving up fleet admiral? Giving up command of the fleet? Have you decided not to do those things?”
“No,” Geary said quietly.
“Do I have to be the sane one here?”
“That depends on how you define sanity.”
She gave him a frustrated and angry look. “I truly did not realize … I need to have another talk with my ancestors.” Desjani straightened herself to attention, her voice becoming calmer and more reserved. “Is there anything else, Admiral Geary?”
He refrained from pointing out that she had come to his stateroom of her own accord and not been summoned by him. “No, there’s nothing else.”
She saluted with careful formality, then left.
Half an hour later, Rione came by. “There’s something I should probably let you know about,” she began.
“I already know. Can’t you see the scorch marks that Desjani left in here?”
“You seem to have come through in one piece.” Rione shrugged. “I was just trying to be nice. I don’t know why that bothered her.”
“It was out of character,” Geary suggested.
“I suppose that must have seemed suspicious.” Instead of being angered by his remark, Rione seemed amused. “She came here for comfort, did she?”
“It’s not funny.”
“No. I imagine for her it’s a bit of a torment. I really was trying to make things a little easier on her.” Rione paused. “When she cools down enough, you might find a way to tell her that I have said nothing I did not believe. Too bad she’s incapable of accepting that.”
“I’ll see if I can find a way to tell her the first thing.” So much for any idea of defusing the bad feelings between Rione and Desjani. Different though they were, they were like elements that, when combined, could form a critical mass. The only way to avoid detonations was to keep them far enough apart. “She has every right to be angry at fate.”
“So do you.” Rione breathed out slowly. “I’ll try not to make things harder for you both.”
“Why? Just because it’s important to me? I know you have no love for Tanya Desjani.”
“No, on both counts.” For a long moment he wondered if she was going to say more, then Rione spoke in a low voice. “Because the woman that I once was wouldn’t have confined herself to worrying about how well others could serve her needs and purposes. For a long time I thought I’d bartered my soul for what I believed to be important, but I’ve learned that my soul is still with me. And if you repeat a word of that to anyone, I will deny saying it, and no one will believe you.”
“Your secret is safe.”
Rione gave him an ironic look. “It wouldn’t do to have people knowing that politicians have souls, would it? By the way, speaking of soulless politicians, Senator Costa has been digging for information on you and your captain, trying to find leverage to use against you if necessary. She’s getting increasingly frustrated, probably because your fleet’s personnel won’t share any dirt with her.”
“There isn’t any dirt to share.” He wondered what lurid gossip might have been flowing to Costa if the likes of Captains Kila, Faresa, or Numos had still been in command of ships.
“Absolutely true. From what I hear, your sailors and officers have been boasting about how honorable the two of you are. Not exactly the stuff of blackmail.”
That was gratifying, but also discomforting. Granted that the rumors he was involved with Desjani had started long before they really had any basis in fact, it was nonetheless embarrassing to think of the fleet talking about the two of them even if those conversations were about how honorably they were dealing with it. “Sakai isn’t doing the same?”
“Sakai doesn’t work that way. His main leverage was supposed to be the fact that he’s from Kosatka. No one told you that?”
“No.” Desjani and most of the rest of the crew of Dauntless were also from Kosatka.
“Sakai has already discovered that won’t help much if he wants them to act against you. He’s been trying to work on your captain’s loyalties to her home world and getting absolutely nowhere.”
Geary leaned back, letting his unhappiness show. He had hoped against all reason that the two other senators would just trust him until he gave them reason to feel otherwise. “But you’re on our side.”
“I’m on the ‘side’ of the Alliance, Admiral Geary,” Rione replied sharply. “Act against that, and I’ll do what I must. I no longer expect that to happen, but don’t take my loyalty for granted. I’m not infatuated with you.” She turned and left.
Parnosa. Geary couldn’t suppress a sense of anxiety as the fleet flashed into existence on the fringes of Parnosa Star System. Six light-hours away from where the fleet had arrived, around the curve of the star system, Parnosa’s hypernet gate loomed. “Get me an assessment of that gate as soon as possible. Before this fleet gets too far from the jump point, I want to know if the hypernet gate has a safe-collapse system installed.”
To the optical sensors of the Alliance fleet, six light-hours’ distance was child’s play. Within seconds Geary’s display was updating with assessments of everything within the star system. He waited with barely controlled impatience for the one piece of information he absolutely had to have.
“There’s a safe-fail system on the gate,” one of the watch-standers announced as the sensors relayed their analysis. “It appears to be basically the same as ours.”
Geary let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The major potential threat accounted for, he took a long look at the rest of the Syndic defenses.
“One light cruiser and a half dozen HuKs,” Desjani commented. “None of them within four light-hours of us.”
“Plus the usual array of fixed defenses.” Geary realized something else wasn’t there. “They don’t have any HuKs on picket duty near the jump points.”
“They have one at the hypernet gate,” she pointed out. “They know where we want to go from here, or think they know that, anyway. Once that HuK sees us in about six hours, it’ll enter the gate, headed for the Syndic home star system.” Desjani grimaced. “Two to one they don’t try to drop the gate.”
Geary gave her a questioning look. “That’s been one of the things I was worried about. Why not? They’ve been willing to do that before to try to stop us, and with a safe-collapse system installed, they don’t have to worry about the results to their own star system.”
“Syndic government is about corporate profits,” Desjani pointed out. “Dropping the gate here would really hit the local economy even though the gate wouldn’t fry stuff directly. That’s the incentive for the locals not to do it. But the Syndic Executive Council is certain to be ready for us at the Syndic home star system, like you said. That means they want us there, not rampaging around the rest of Syndicate space. And they want us coming through the hypernet gate, overconfident again, so their ambush can chew us up.”
“Good points. Let’s not keep the Executive Council waiting any longer than we have to.”
He held off launching a bombardment of the fixed defenses in the star system, waiting to see what the Syndics did. As the Alliance fleet raced across
the outer curve of the star system en route to the hypernet gate, the HuK entered the gate just as Desjani had predicted, but neither attacks nor surrender offers came from the Syndic authorities in Parnosa, and the remaining Syndic warships stayed very distant. “We should still take out those defenses,” Desjani finally argued.
Geary shook his head. “Rocks are cheap, but our supply isn’t infinite. I have a feeling the Syndic home star system is going to be crawling with so many targets we’re going to be glad for every rock we have to throw at them.”
One day out from the hypernet gate, the Syndic authorities finally called Geary. He saw only one Syndic CEO, an older man who spoke bluntly. “I am calling on behalf of the innocent civilians in this star system.”
Desjani made a rude noise.
“We are aware that you have the ability to destroy our hypernet gate and unleash horrible destruction on everyone here,” the Syndic CEO continued. “In the name of humanity, we ask that you avoid doing so. Should Captain Geary be in command of this fleet, I address my appeal directly to him and promise not to engage in hostile acts against your ships if you will promise to refrain from destroying the gate.”
“Interesting,” Rione commented after the message ended. “He sent it on a tight beam. The Syndic warships in Parnosa wouldn’t have been aware of it.”
“Typical Syndics. Double-crossing their own defenders,” Desjani grumbled.
“Who might bombard them if they knew the locals were going against Syndic central-authority orders,” Geary reminded her, then looked back at Rione. “Why are they so concerned about us destroying their gate? When they’ve got a safe-fail system on it?” He turned to Desjani. “Could it be a fake safe-fail system? A mock-up?”
Rione answered before Desjani could. “The inhabitants of this star system have surely seen the records this fleet broadcast of what happened at Lakota, and they’ve likely heard about Kalixa, so they know what can happen when a gate collapses. Their government no doubt has assured them that the safe-fail system will prevent disaster from happening here if the gate collapses or is destroyed, but I doubt the Syndics here fully trust the safe-fail system.”
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