“Meaning me? I am better at the arrogant thing than you are.” Rione leaned back. “But Costa is even better. I’ll tell her you thought she should issue the next demand. It’ll make Costa think you’ve been impressed by her.”
“Will she give away our concerns about a trap?”
“Costa? She protects secrets tighter than celibates protect their virginity. That’s the last thing you have to worry about with her.” Rione smiled. “I’ll be up front with her about this being aimed at keeping the Syndics fooled. She’ll love that, as well as a chance to mock a Syndic CEO to his face. How long do we have to keep the Syndics fooled, anyway?”
Geary waved toward the star-system display. “As you saw, we can’t just charge straight for a lee position without giving away our intent, so we’re going roundabout. A bit more than two more days, then we head directly for the lee of the star.”
“The Syndics will give us that much time?”
“If their own flotilla continues on its own roundabout transit, it will take three more days to reach the jump point for Mandalon.”
“We should have the time, then. Would you like to hear what Sakai said about you?”
He pondered that question for a moment, then nodded.
“Senator Sakai said, ‘He listened to us.’ ”
Geary waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. “That’s all?”
“That is a great deal, Admiral Geary.” Rione studied him again, shaking her head. “I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it’s always there and just got a lot worse. But at some point the senior officers and the senior politicians in the Alliance stopped listening to each other. We all pretend we’re listening, but all we hear and see is what we expect.”
“Like Badaya.”
“Or Costa.” Rione stood, heading for the hatch, then paused and looked back at him. “Maybe there was another reason that I came along with the fleet when Admiral Bloch was in command, a reason that I didn’t know of. Healing the Alliance will take officers who trust politicians, and politicians who trust officers.”
He made a crooked smile. “Don’t you get all mystical on me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Admiral. If the living stars were depending on the likes of me to carry out their missions, they’d really be scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
SEVEN
The Syndic flotilla hadn’t initially responded to the change in path by the Alliance fleet, but after about ten hours had turned away toward the jump point for Mandalon while also decreasing speed. “They couldn’t be more blatant about wanting us to chase them,” Geary remarked.
Desjani made a face. “It’s more taunting of us. You don’t see it that way?”
“It’s too obvious.”
“Maybe to you.” She shook her head, eyes looking somewhere into the past. “To you maneuvering around like that is just reasonable tactical positioning. But we’re used to seeing the enemy and charging straight for him, while he does the same right at us. You really haven’t understood how your maneuvering tended to drive the Syndics crazy, have you? Because it wasn’t how the game was supposed to be played. Now the Syndics are playing it back at us. ‘Here we are, try to catch us and kill us.’ The Syndics are hoping that we’ll get as angry as they would and head for them, trying to force a proper battle.”
He had never thought in terms of proper and improper ways to fight, just of smart ways and dumb ways. In peacetime training there had been some dumb things demanded by doctrine or whoever the current senior commander happened to be, but those had always come with an implied or open message that in actual combat things would be done differently. Maybe in peacetime it was easier to figure out what was smart, or maybe it just seemed easier because real battles and real lives weren’t on the line. “I’ve still got a lot to learn, I guess.” Desjani managed to look skeptical in a mostly respectful way as Geary continued. “In any case, it shouldn’t make much difference now whether we chase after them or not. We’re too far from any jump point to reach any of them before that flotilla would be able to jump for Mandalon.”
This time Desjani rubbed her neck, then ran some more maneuvers through the system. “The Syndic flotilla is just shy of two light-hours away from us. In theory, it’s just possible that we could head for the Tremandir jump point like bats out of hell starting about now and, factoring in all of the time delays for the Syndic leaders at the Mandalon jump point to see us start that way and send orders to the Syndic flotilla to accelerate at maximum for the Mandalon jump point, to get there as fast as possible, and the time required for the flotilla to reach the jump point, and the time needed for the Syndic leaders’ signal to reach the hypernet gate after that, and then for the shock wave to get to us, for this fleet to be able to jump for Tremandir in time. I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it, but the Syndic leaders may be trying to make absolutely, positively certain that they can get their flotilla out while leaving us no way we could escape when they collapse that hypernet gate.”
He traced some paths through the star system and saw what Desjani meant. “If we did chase that flotilla, we’d be heading back toward the Syndic leaders, reducing the time lag in which they can see what we’re doing, and we’ll be angling closer to the hypernet gate as well, slightly reducing the time before the shock wave hits. Less uncertainty for them, even if every minute wasn’t bringing their own flotilla closer to safety.” Another thought came to him then. “They’re politicians, mostly, but they’re making a military decision on when to collapse the gate.”
That brought a grin from Desjani. “They’ll probably screw it up, then.” Her smile faded. “Which could be bad for us if they screw it up in the wrong direction.”
“Yeah.” Costa was sitting in the observer’s seat at the moment but seemed to have dozed off. Instead of disturbing the senator, Geary tapped a comm control. “Madam Co-President, I’d appreciate a politician’s perspective on an issue.”
Rione listened, then shrugged. “It could go either way, Admiral. A politician deciding when to spring this trap might hesitate too long in the hope of the situation growing more and more perfect for ensuring success. I would tend to favor that option as being most likely because they must feel very safe in their battleship, able to jump to another star system whenever they want to. But it’s still possible that they might panic and launch the attack too early. It might depend in great part on whatever their military advisers are telling them.”
“What’s that likely to be?”
“Whatever they believe their superiors want to hear, and whatever they think will make their superiors do what they want them to do.” Rione’s image made a gesture in the general direction of the brig. “Look at how the Syndic CEO we’re hauling with us has tried to handle you. He tells you what he thinks will dispose you to act in certain ways and tries to avoid telling you anything else. I guarantee you that our guest CEO is acting out of habit as well as calculation.”
Geary rubbed his chin as he thought about that. “We have no way of knowing what the commander of the Syndic battleship carrying the Syndic leaders wants them to do. Any guesses as to what the CEO in charge of the flotilla might be telling them?”
It was Rione’s turn to think, twisting her mouth and frowning. “My guess, for whatever it is worth, is that he is playing it as straight as he can in an attempt to prove his continued loyalty and make up for allowing this fleet to escape the last time he encountered it.”
“Do you think he knows about the plan to collapse the gate?”
She made a derisive sound. “Would you give that information to him? If nothing else, that knowledge would be something he could try to trade to us or to some other Syndic CEOs in order to sell out his current leaders. Even if he did either of those things, we couldn’t trust him.”
“Because he murdered Admiral Bloch and the other Alliance negotiators.”
Rione shook her head, annoyed. “Because he desperately wants to defeat you. Black Jack Geary, the man who snatched away his perfec
t victory. If not for you, he might be one of the Syndic leaders right now.”
That brought up a new idea. “Maybe I should taunt him, personally. If we can get that Syndic flotilla to turn around and come for us, it will mess up the plans of the Syndic leaders.”
“That wouldn’t—” Rione paused, her expression thoughtful. “It might work. From the perspective of that CEO, defeating you might seem like the perfect solution. He doesn’t know that he’ll be messing up his superiors’ plan, and he’ll be thinking that if he defeats this fleet, he’ll be the hero he planned on being several months ago. Yes. Stick a knife into his ego and twist it.”
“I’ll try.” Geary leaned back, thinking. Taunting the Syndic CEO might fit in well with the plan to break off the battle-cruiser strike force. “Captain Desjani, aside from the fact that this fleet escaped him once before, what sort of things would torque off that Syndic CEO the most?”
Desjani gleefully offered some suggestions.
Geary activated a transmission aimed at the Syndic flotilla, knowing that every ship in the Syndic force would be capable of picking up his message. That would make it sting the CEO’s ego even worse. “To Shalin, the current commanding officer of the Syndicate Worlds’ flotilla in this star system. I regret that you are unwilling to face this fleet in combat, perhaps due to your failure to defeat it some months ago in this same star system. Your reluctance to fight is understandable, but the Alliance fleet is willing to give you another opportunity to engage in battle if you will cease avoiding action. The people of this star system must be wondering why a CEO with so many decorations for valor is abandoning them to their fate, but for my part I understand your unwillingness to face me again. It’s refreshing to meet a Syndic leader who cares more for the welfare of his personnel than he does for his own honor and prerogatives. If you would simply agree to surrender, I could guarantee the safety of your personnel, while you personally came to my flagship to discuss the conditions for your submission to my terms.
“Think it over, Shalin. A commander with your reputation shouldn’t have any trouble deciding what to do.
“To the honor of our ancestors. This is Fleet Admiral Geary out.”
Desjani laughed. “It might make him want to kill you, but he wants to do that already. Too bad we have to wait four hours for him to get that and see any response, but we can kill time blowing the hell out of the third planet.”
“What are you going to do for fun if you can’t devastate planets anymore?”
“I’ll have to find another hobby, I guess.”
Worlds habitable by humans that had only one climate were very rare, but the planet fifteen light-minutes out from the star was literally an ice world. Large enough to retain its atmosphere and with plentiful water, it had boasted vast oceans and seas during the relatively brief period when the planet was no longer molten but hadn’t cooled too much.
But as the planet grew cooler, and its too-distant star provided too little warmth, the oceans, seas, rivers, and lakes began freezing, and they had been frozen ever since.
Amid the fields of snow and ice were cities and estates serving a population probably numbering less than half a million, but while numerous sport and recreational sites could be seen, very little in the way of industrial locations was apparent. “I guess if you like winter sports, that would be a great place to live,” Geary commented.
Desjani tapped part of the planet’s image. “Look how they’ve smoothed large sections of the ice. They’ve got huge ice plains for racing. Imagine sailing an iceboat across a perfectly smooth field of ice a thousand kilometers long. See right there? An ice yacht. A really big one.” She snorted disdainfully. “It’s a resort planet. The damned Syndic leaders have actually maintained a resort planet next door to their primary world here.”
He tried to imagine how much money it would cost to sustain a planet dedicated to vacationing Very Important People. “We should be grateful that they spent the money on perks for themselves and not on the Syndic war effort. What kind of targets do we have?”
“Spaceports, communications hubs, a few security installations.” Desjani’s derision shaded into disgust. “I guess any industry other than luxury tourism would have spoiled the views.”
“We haven’t seen any labor camps,” Rione commented, “but it would suit the arrogance of the Syndic leaders to have Alliance POWs working at the difficult and unpleasant tasks of keeping that planet neat and pretty. We can’t assume that the Syndic CEO was just playing mind games when he claimed our captured personnel were located at important sites. I would suggest choosing targets with care. Forced laborers could be kept in single buildings, or even portions of buildings.”
“Good point.” There was no telling how many crew members from the Alliance warships once destroyed here might have been kept around as living war trophies. “How badly did Senator Costa threaten that slime on that issue?”
“I am not myself easily intimidated, but her words and their delivery would have made me reconsider my own actions,” Rione responded dryly.
“Thanks.” Suppressing renewed thoughts about the possible fate of his grandnephew Michael Geary, Geary ordered the combat systems to screen out targets that might be barracks or living areas for workers or were too close to such places. Despite Desjani’s unhappiness, that still left a small but decent batch of targets. Geary paused, then added a few spots scattered through the wide, smooth sailing areas. “Let’s also mess up their recreation a little.”
“There’s actually some liquid water in the deeper parts of the oceans, under kilometers of ice,” Desjani said. “Why don’t we punch down that deep somewhere? Just for fun?”
A hole that deep in their sailing area would seriously annoy the Syndic leaders and be a very long-lived monument to the capability of the Alliance to strike here. “Sure. Why not?” The hours spent discreetly heading for the lee of the star had been tense, wondering if the Syndic politicians might decide to trigger the hypernet gate before their own flotilla was clear just to ensure that the Alliance fleet was destroyed as well. Slamming a hole a few kilometers deep in a frozen ocean might help relieve a little of that tension. The combat systems worked up a solution for that quickly enough, using a series of kinetic rounds dropped onto the exact same spot one after the other. “Give me a double check on this firing plan, please. I want to be sure we don’t hit any spot likely to have POW forced laborers present.”
Desjani checked it over, then had one of her watch-standers do a check as well. “It looks as good as we can get, sir. We’re not that far from the planet, but they’ll still see the kinetic rounds inbound in time to evacuate targets.”
He approved the bombardment, and once again a wave of kinetic rounds burst from the ships of the Alliance fleet.
Geary pulled out the scale on his display for a moment, seeing where some of the projectiles from the first bombardment launched over two days ago were still heading for their targets in more distant parts of the star system. “All right, so much for the Syndic winter wonderland. Let’s pretend we’re heading to deal the same treatment to the main inhabited world.”
Desjani’s mood seemed to have been improved by firing the latest bombardment. “They’re trying to get us to chase them, and we’re trying to get them to chase us, but we’re both actually doing something else.”
“I asked … someone else about that, and her opinion was that CEO Shalin doesn’t know the plans of the Syndic leaders.”
His weak attempt to avoid mentioning Rione by name failed to deceive Desjani. She made another face. “It takes a politician to understand a politician,” she muttered.
Costa had come onto the bridge, her expression impassive, and had caught Geary’s statement but apparently not Desjani’s. “I agree with your informant, Admiral. I doubt if CEO Shalin has been told. He’s being punished,” she stated bluntly. “I’ve spent some time reviewing his transmission to us, getting past my own anger at his words and attitude to evaluate what he’s trying t
o hide about himself. Take a close look at the way he comes across. Despite the awards and the surface arrogance, it’s clear that he hasn’t been living a comfortable life lately, mentally or physically. He let you get away the last time the fleet was here. He knows he’s expendable.”
Rione raised an eyebrow at Costa. “Do you think we can cut a deal with him?”
Desjani spun in her seat, her expression controlled but her tension easy enough for Geary to read. He felt the same way. Reach an agreement with that CEO? It wasn’t just the Alliance fleet’s losses in that long-ago ambush, but rather the murder of the officers who had gone to negotiate with him. But Rione had already told him that she couldn’t see any basis for trusting Shalin, so why had she raised the possibility with Costa?
“A deal?” Costa grimaced. “I doubt it. Even if we could trust him. If I read him right, he’s the sort who when in disfavor will go to any lengths to regain favor. He’d double-cross us in a heartbeat.”
“I agree with your assessment,” Rione said.
Geary saw the other senator’s flash of pleasure at that, then realized that Rione had only asked the question so that she could publicly state agreement with Costa and thereby earn some measure of gratitude from Costa. I’ll never be a politician. I just can’t play those games. But the conversation brought up another question. “Why does he have new awards if he’s being punished? Why did the Syndics give him more medals if they’re mad at him for us getting away?”
“Consistency.” Costa waved in the general direction of Alliance space. “While the fleet was still missing, the Syndics were broadcasting propaganda that it had been completely destroyed here. If they hadn’t presented awards to the CEO in charge of their forces in that battle, it would have looked odd and called into question the claimed victory. Believe me, we were grasping at straws and would have keyed on that.”
“If that’s the reason he got those medals, it’s hard to believe that he’s actually wearing them.” Geary turned back to Desjani, who had relaxed as it became apparent that no one was going to suggest dealing with the flotilla’s CEO. “Two more hours. Then it will be too late for the Syndics to blow the gate in time to hit us.”
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