Victorious tlf-6

by Jack Campbell

  Sakai nodded. “This is my advice as well.”

  “It’s not mine. We have bled enough because of the Syndics,” Costa declared. “They got themselves into this. They can get themselves out of it.”

  “And if they fail?” Sakai asked. “Won’t the Alliance be forced to deal with the results of that failure sooner or later?”

  “The Syndics held us off for a century,” Costa said. “If they really want to confront these aliens, they’ll do it instead of asking us to clean up their mess. We’ve lost enough men and women, and plenty of children as well, in this war. We’ve nearly bankrupted the Alliance. We did that because we had to do it. We don’t have to get involved in a Syndic dispute with an alien race of unknown motivations and power. We don’t have to make a stupid decision to start another war.” The reference to the folly of the Syndic leaders a century ago was too obvious to miss.

  “If we make the decision now not to go to that star system,” Rione said, “then we foreclose other options for dealing with these aliens. We won’t even be able to make direct contact with them unless the Syndics agree to allow that. Going to that star system retains our ability to decide what to do. Not going means leaving events up to whatever the aliens and the Syndics do, and personally, I have no trust regarding either of those parties. The Alliance needs a seat at the table, and that means going to Midway.”

  “Just our presence may eliminate the alien threat,” Sakai agreed. “If they are moving because of Syndic weakness, a show of strength may be all that is required to stop them.”

  “Read your history!” Costa said. “Countless wars have begun because someone thought a show of strength would be all that was needed!”

  “I did not say it was certain to resolve the matter. I suggested that it might deal with the problem. If it doesn’t, there will still be alternatives to fighting.”

  “Do you think an Alliance fleet will back down in the face of a hostile force?”

  “That depends,” Rione said, “on who is leading that fleet. Admiral Geary has not stated his own thoughts, but he is aware of our own positions now. I suggest that we grant him time to consider our options and consult with his own trusted advisers.” She nodded to Geary, as did Sakai, and, after a moment, a clearly reluctant Costa did as well.

  Geary nodded back politely, trying to keep his own feelings hidden. He already felt that going to Midway was a necessity but wanted to speak to other fleet officers before deciding, and knew he had to bring up something else. “Did the Syndics provide any clues as to who sent the order to collapse the hypernet gate here?”

  Sakai shook his head. “They claimed not to know and said there is no record anywhere within their systems of any such order going out from anywhere, even from the flotilla before it was destroyed.”

  “Who else would have tried to destroy this fleet?” Costa demanded.

  “I think we’ve just been talking about who else, Senator,” Geary said. “A hypernet gate collapses with no sign of a signal sent to it. We’ve seen it before. It could have happened here, and it could have happened before the catastrophic-fail routines were deactivated. I’ve confirmed that the Syndic ships have alien worms in their systems. That would have told the aliens we were here, but fortunately not in time for the aliens to collapse the gate before the catastrophic-collapse routine was deactivated.”

  “Then,” Sakai said in a low voice, as Costa stared at Geary, “we are already at war with them, as are the Syndics, even though the great majority of the human race has no idea they even exist.”

  “Wars can be ended, Senator,” Geary replied before he left.

  Fifteen minutes later he sat in the fleet conference room, accompanied by the real presence of Tanya Desjani and the virtual presences of Captain Duellos and Captain Tulev. He explained the treaty first, pausing as he saw the reaction sweep through the three other officers.

  Duellos closed his eyes for a moment. “I never thought to see this day.”

  “Too long coming,” Tulev murmured. “Far too long coming, but it is here. The witch is singing.”

  “What?” Geary asked. “The witch?”

  “The witch is singing,” Desjani repeated, looking as if she were trying to blink away tears. “It means it’s over.”

  “No, the witch is dead means it’s over. Or, the fat lady sings means it’s over.”

  Duellos opened his eyes and gave Geary a skeptical look. “The fat lady?”

  “Yes.”

  “What fat lady?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a saying.”

  “What witch?” Desjani asked. “Why did she die?”

  “I don’t know that, either. All I know is a century ago those were separate sayings, and somehow you’ve combined them.”

  “Perhaps there was a fat witch who liked to sing,” Duellos suggested. He laughed, and so did Desjani. Even Tulev smiled a bit.

  Geary understood, then. They were giddy with joy, overwhelmed at hearing that the war would finally end. The Alliance senators had been subdued in their own reactions, concerned by the remaining problems, but then to them the war itself had been a distant thing. Unlike the politicians, the fleet officers had been dealing with the death and destruction firsthand.

  But now he had to tell them that while the war might be ending, total peace was still a distant goal.

  Something in his expression must have given that away to Desjani, whose smile faded into concern. “What is it? The aliens?”

  “Yes, as well as the fact that we’re going to have a fragmented region where the enemy used to be. Lots of problems in human space, and the aliens trying to take advantage of that.” The levity drained from the other three officers as they listened, replaced by a searching appraisal of the information. “Captain Tulev, I would appreciate your frank feelings on this matter.”

  Tulev gazed back impassively, giving no outward clue that his entire family, every relation, had died decades ago in a massive Syndic bombardment of his home world. “You ask me if we should aid those who caused so much death and destruction to our own?” He sat for a moment, unspeaking, then sighed. “My ancestors long ago told me to protect others from the Syndics, but to be willing to forgive lest hate destroy my soul as war destroyed all else I once had.”

  “Tanya?”

  “What?” she asked, looking angry now.

  “Recommendations. I want to know what you think.”

  “I think it sucks. Sir.” Desjani leaned forward, exhaling in exasperation. “I can’t find fault with the analysis. At least twenty star systems. That’s a lot, and some of those star systems are prime territory. I wish we knew more about these aliens. How could the Syndics have failed to learn much of anything in a century of contact?”

  “It would be nice to know what their weaponry is like,” Geary agreed. “Or anything much about their ships.”

  “I have a bad feeling that we’re going to have to find out the hard way, aren’t we?” Desjani turned an irate look on him. “The alternative is to allow something we know little about to grab a significant chunk of human territory.”

  “Yeah.” Geary kept his eyes on the representation of Midway Star System floating above the table. “How do you think the fleet will react?”

  “It depends what you tell them. Say we’re going to help the Syndics? That would go over very poorly.”

  “Protecting humanity? How would the fleet like that?”

  She made a face. “Not as badly, but the humanity in question are Syndics. Same problem. Defend, protect, those are all sort of passive things anyway. This fleet believes in going on the attack.”

  He nodded. “We’re going to kick alien butt?”

  Desjani suddenly grinned. “The aliens who messed with humanity. You have to give the fleet reasons to know these enigma whatevers have already threatened the Alliance, that they tried to kill us recently with that hypernet gate.” Her smile faded. “But if the fleet thinks this is the prelude to another all-out war, enthusiasm will be very limi
ted.”

  Duellos had been studying the ultimatum. “Whatever they are, they seem to have a good grasp of human legalese. That document feels like any number of human legal documents I’ve read.”

  “That’s what the politicians thought, too,” Geary said.

  “Maybe they’ve captured some human lawyers,” Desjani suggested.

  “That might be why they want to destroy us, then,” Duellos agreed. “What would we do if alien lawyers descended on us?”

  “I think they already have. Maybe all lawyers are aliens.”

  “I know quite a few who could be.”

  Desjani snorted, then shook her head. “Admiral, you’re asking if we should fight these things. We’re already fighting them. They cost us at Lakota, remember?”

  “Yeah.” He would never forget having to watch as Indefatigable, Defiant, and Audacious sacrificed themselves to save the rest of the fleet. “I guess we owe it to those who died to confront the aliens. One more reason to go.”

  Duellos nodded. “More than that, this Boyens, you say, is not unredeemable.”

  “He seems, well, roughly like our own politicians.”

  “That’s not exactly an endorsement,” Desjani muttered.

  “Nonetheless,” Duellos continued, “if we can save the Syndic border region and help the star systems there form their own political coalition to replace the Syndic authorities, we could have a friendly power in that part of space. A minor power, to be sure, but immensely better than the entire border region fracturing into individual star systems.”

  “Having such a power agree to our assistance would grant us access to the region it controls,” Tulev agreed. “This would be vital to the future defense of the Alliance. We must be able to meet with these aliens directly.”

  “They don’t meet with any humans directly,” Desjani grumbled.

  “Maybe we can change that,” Geary said. “You’re all in agreement, then?” Duellos and Tulev nodded, then eventually Desjani nodded as well though with a resigned expression. “Thank you. It ought to be interesting when I present all of this at a fleet conference. I really don’t know how it will be taken.”

  “They’ll follow you,” Tulev stated bluntly. “You led them out of hell. You led them to this moment, when the war will finally end.”

  “But now I have to tell them that I’ve withheld critical information from them, information about a serious threat to this fleet and to the Alliance.”

  Desjani and Duellos hesitated, plainly trying to think of what to say, but Tulev immediately shook his head. “I do not often have the pleasure of telling an admiral he is wrong. What critical information has been withheld? Guesses, suppositions, possibilities. We did not even know for certain that this enigma race existed until the Syndics confirmed it.”

  “We avoided star systems with hypernet gates because of the threat from them,” Geary pointed out.

  “We avoided such star systems before we had any idea of aliens, Admiral, because the Syndics could too easily shift forces to them using their hypernet.” Tulev waved at the star display. “How would any of your orders to the fleet have been different, how would our path home have been different, if you had never suspected that the aliens existed?”

  Geary stared at the display, mentally replaying the long retreat home. “I honestly can’t think of anything that would have been done differently. We would even have developed the safe-fail systems to protect Alliance hypernet gates from Syndic attack after we realized the threat a collapsing gate posed to its own star system.”

  “Exactly. You withheld nothing that would have altered your actions or your orders.” Tulev leaned back, smiling thinly for a moment. “You need have nothing on your conscience in that regard.”

  Duellos raised an eyebrow at Tulev, then nodded. “Captain Tulev is right, Admiral. Even at Lakota we learned of the alien intervention after the initial actions, so that knowledge had no effect on your decisions during the actions.”

  Geary rubbed one side of his face, thinking. “You’ve got a good point, but we’ve scrubbed our warships’ systems of those alien worms. Other officers and sailors are rightly going to wonder why we didn’t tell them we believed those were of alien origin, and why they were never told that someone suspected that an intelligent alien race existed on the other side of Syndic space.”

  “No, they won’t wonder,” Desjani said. “They will assume that our political leaders knew something and never told us. They won’t blame you. They’ll blame the politicians because that’s what they usually do. And how do we know they’re wrong to do so? How do we know the Alliance government truly never suspected the existence of these aliens? The Syndics certainly kept it very quiet, keeping most of their own military in ignorance. The fleet won’t blame you.”

  “But—” He paused, thinking that through. Rione had said she had known nothing, and in that he believed her even though Geary was sure she would lie if she thought it necessary to protect the Alliance. But Rione had admitted that the grand council could easily have known things not shared with the rest of the senate. “All right. That’s possible.” Geary noticed a look on Desjani’s face he couldn’t decipher. “What?”

  She stayed silent, but eventually Duellos sighed. “Captain Desjani stated a truth, that the fleet will not blame you. Not in this. Not in other matters. They believe in you too much. Therefore, someone else must be to blame when something goes wrong. In some matters, that will be the politicians. In other matters, it will be those giving you military advice.”

  That took a moment to sink in. “You? The three of you?”

  “Are you really surprised?” Desjani demanded. “You’ve heard that clumsy oaf Badaya. As long as I’m doing the right things, you should be happy and aimed in the right direction. Whose fault is it if you’re unhappy?” She almost yelled that, then subsided, staring at the table surface, her face red.

  “Or if you fail,” Duellos added to break the renewed silence. “Nobody expects me to keep you happy, though.”

  “You are a jovial man, Roberto. Perhaps you should try,” Tulev suggested in the closest thing to a joke that Geary had ever heard from him. “Admiral, it is simply the other side of the coin. Many look at us and see those you trust the most. It is a status many envy. But if you fail, everyone will assume we have failed you.”

  Wonderful. He had tried to avoid showing favoritism, yet his reliance on certain officers for advice had apparently been obvious enough. What else might have been obvious?

  Desjani, her gaze still fixed on the table, spoke in hard tones. “I have no fear of being held to account for my professional advice to the admiral.”

  “Nor should you,” Duellos agreed.

  Another awkward silence descended, which Geary finally cut short. “Thank you. I’ll call the fleet meeting in about an hour and break the news. I’m very fortunate to have had the three of you serving with me.”

  The images of Duellos and Tulev rendered salutes, that of Duellos almost jaunty, while Tulev’s salute was steady and precise, then both men vanished from the room.

  Desjani stood up, still not looking at him. “By your leave, sir.”

  “Of course.” There were a million other things he wanted to say, at least several hundred thousand of which would have been catastrophically wrong. He couldn’t tell if even one of them would be right.

  But she said more, her eyes still on the table’s surface. “You haven’t mentioned this, but I know you’ve kept your promise to me. The fleet got home, and the war is over. You made no vow to stick with this, the aliens and the mess that is becoming the former Syndicate Worlds.”

  “I would not leave now. I know I’m still needed.” Geary wondered when it had all changed inside him, when he had realized that fleeing his responsibilities was no longer an action he could regard as honorable or realistic. He couldn’t simply carry out one mission and be done with it, because each new mission led into the next missions seamlessly. “I have a duty to the Alliance, and to my c
omrades in the fleet.”

  “All of them?”

  “All of them. I only wish my being here didn’t make it harder on some of those comrades, on one of those comrades in particular, who shouldn’t have to endure anything on my account.”

  “I am not without fault in that. Perhaps what I endure is the price the living stars demand for … things that must remain unspoken.” She finally looked directly at him again. “What changed? Why don’t you wish to leave?”

  He shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. “I’m not sure, but a big part of it was watching people like you, Duellos, and Tulev. None of you had given up, all of you kept doing your duty, even though you’d faced this war since you were born. You are all one hell of a good example of doing the right thing, of sticking to the job no matter what.”

  Desjani looked away again. “Then … you’ll remain in command of the fleet, Admiral.”

  “Until we return again to Alliance space, then I’ll relinquish command of the fleet and my temporary rank of admiral. I’ll be available if needed, but for a little while, at least, things will be different.”

  “You’re extremely stubborn. And insane. You know that, don’t you?” She moved to leave, then looked back, a small, ironic smile twisting her lips slightly. “Do me a favor and try to look happy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But not too happy.”

  It was easy to guess what everyone would think had happened between him and Desjani if he seemed too high-spirited all of a sudden. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And stop calling me ma’am. You outrank me.”

  “Yes, Tanya.”

  She glowered in exasperation for a moment, then shook her head, apparently couldn’t help another smile, and left.

  TEN

  There was a sense of relaxation in the fleet conference room, the atmosphere more tranquil than Geary had ever imagined it could be. But why shouldn’t the fleet’s ship captains feel happy and calm? He knew the rumor mill would have already carried to every ship in the fleet word of the treaty with the Syndics.