“Have you had the chance to talk to any fleet officers about what’s going on?” Geary asked.
“Yes, but most of them assume that you ordered the repairs to continue for reasons of your own. No one else seems to have any clues, which is very unusual. You know how hard it is to keep things secret.”
Desjani shook her head. “How can you properly prepare the fleet for a mission without knowing what the mission is?”
“Damned if I know.” Timbale let his unhappiness show. “The government stopped totally trusting the military decades ago, but it’s still annoying to be treated as though they don’t trust us. I’ve been told nothing of substance, just things like the orders for today, under the seal of the grand council regarding security arrangements. I also haven’t been invited to this meeting, Admiral Geary. I was told it was for you alone.”
Desjani kept her expression professionally unrevealing, but Geary could tell she wasn’t happy with that. Nor was he, until he considered having both of them firmly within seven layers of very tight security. “To tell you the truth,” Geary said to Timbale, “I think it might be good to know that you and Captain Desjani are outside the meeting, in communication with everyone else, and able to act or react as appropriate.”
This time, Timbale smiled tightly. “There are some parties who wouldn’t listen to me but will accept anything they’re told by the captain. It’s a given that she speaks for you.”
Geary caught the flash of melancholy in her eyes at that praise, but Tanya simply nodded. “I will keep an eye on things while you’re in the meeting, Admiral,” she said.
“You don’t have to be formal with your husband among just us,” Timbale advised her.
“Yes, sir, I do,” Desjani told him. “When in any professional context, he is Admiral Geary, and I am Captain Desjani. We’re both agreed on that.”
They turned a corner and at the other end of that corridor saw what must be the first layer of security, a checkpoint occupied by an entire squad of soldiers. “How many of these are there?” Geary asked Timbale.
“Enough soldiers and checkpoints spread through this sector of the station to occupy an entire ground forces brigade,” Timbale said. “No money for a lot of other things but plenty of money for obsessive security. Every way in and out, and I mean every way, has more than one checkpoint securing it. No communications in or out, either. Totally secure and totally isolated. Once you get past a couple of those checkpoints, you won’t be able to send or receive messages.”
Geary’s comm link beeped urgently. “I guess we’re lucky that whatever this is got here now.” He gave it a look, saw who the message was from, and called it up while still walking. As he read, he came to an abrupt halt, causing Timbale and Desjani to stumble to a stop as well and stare at him with mingled curiosity and worry. “What’s happened?” Desjani asked.
“Nothing yet. But—” Geary choked off his words, fury building inside him as he tried to stay calm. “Captain Duellos informs me that the fleet has just received notification of courts-martial charges being filed against a large number of commanding officers. He’s forwarded the message to me.”
If Timbale was feigning surprise and disbelief, he was doing a good job of it. “What? I haven’t seen—May I, Admiral?”
Geary offered his unit, and Timbale read rapidly. “Unbelievable. Over a hundred of the current commanding officers. The charges are technically justified, but what kind of idiot . . .” His jaw tightened. “Actually, I can think of several idiots who might be responsible. A few of them are assigned to fleet headquarters at the moment. I told you that headquarters was trying to assert their control, but I didn’t think they’d do something this stupid.”
“I see that I am also under charges,” Desjani said, her voice again deadly calm. “They want to gut the fleet’s command structure, Admiral.”
Timbale waved his free hand at the comm unit. “Every one of those commanding officers would have to be at least temporarily relieved of command! While we’re still trying to get the fleet repaired, refitted, and resupplied! It’ll cause total chaos!” He made a motion as if to throw the comm unit in frustration, then remembered that it was Geary’s and handed it back. “It’s a good thing you got here just before this broke. If it had been received earlier, all hell would have broken loose. You’re the only one who can stop a very serious overreaction by the fleet.”
But Desjani had adopted her combat-cool attitude again, her eyes fixed on Geary’s own. “It might be that you’re wrong, Admiral Timbale. Not about the fleet’s reaction, but about when this message was supposed to be received. Is it possible that somebody jumped the gun? Perhaps it was intended for this to be received by the fleet while Admiral Geary was already inside with representatives of the government and thus unable to learn of it in time to do anything about it while facing the government representatives, or to keep the fleet from immediately overreacting when the fleet heard of it.”
“Is that the intention?” Geary asked from between clenched teeth. “Making the fleet overreact? My first thought was that this is directly aimed at me, because most of these officers could be seen as loyal to me, but . . .”
Admiral Timbale took a moment to calm himself, then shook his head. “Maybe. Maybe. But with you out of communications, we also wouldn’t have been able to tell the fleet what you were doing, what your status was. If anyone wanted to assume that you’d been seized by the government—”
“That’s too big,” Desjani said. “You’re right, Admiral Timbale. It could far too easily happen, but I can’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to want it to happen.”
“As opposed,” Geary said, “to being stupid enough to cause it unintentionally?”
Timbale nodded quickly. “Yes. That would fit with the other things that fleet headquarters has been doing. ‘We’re in charge!’ They probably got some reports back of the fleet’s attitudes toward their earlier dictates and are escalating with this.”
“Probably not the government, then?” Navarro had not struck Geary as the type, or as foolish enough to push such an action, but then, Geary wasn’t a politician.
“No.” Timbale looked down the passageway toward the checkpoint, where the soldiers were all pretending to be paying no attention to the obviously agitated cluster of high-ranking officers. “Where’s the advantage to the government? They’re worried about revolt, and this is just the sort of thing to trigger it. I don’t have a very high opinion of the intelligence of politicians, but even I know how good they are at self-interest and survival. I don’t see any self-interest or survival upside for the government in pushing this now in this manner. And he’s also inside the conference room waiting for you and out of communications, so he, too, wouldn’t know about this matter until your meeting was over.”
Desjani’s eyes narrowed. “That would give him deniability.”
“When he’s in charge of the government? Claiming he didn’t know what was going on wouldn’t help him at all. It would make him look worse. Assuming that the fleet didn’t blow the station open and kill him.”
“Being a martyr might help his reelection prospects,” Desjani suggested dryly. “Even I might be inclined to vote for a dead politician.”
“Dead heroes don’t always stay dead,” Timbale said, inclining his head toward Geary.
“So what do we do?” Desjani looked at Geary, as did Timbale.
That hadn’t changed, either. He didn’t even have any command assigned at the moment, but everyone was still looking to him for what to do. “We’re agreed that the bottom line is that the fleet will go ballistic. The order is from fleet headquarters. The only way to get it canceled is to go over fleet headquarters, to the government. I need to go on to this meeting. That’s the best way, and probably the only way, to get this matter resolved fast.”
“Sir,” Desjani said, “the blowup in the fleet has probably already started.”
“I know.” He brought up his comm unit, scowling as he saw the nolink
icon. “Why can’t I send a message? I got that one a minute ago.”
Timbale grimaced. “It’s the station. We’ve got so many passageways, conduits, and compartments that act as reflectors, channels, and traps that it makes the perimeter of the security zone fluctuate. There’s no telling how far back you’ll have to go to get a link again.”
“We don’t have time for that.” He pushed record and spoke with care. “All warships in Varandal Star System, this is Admiral Geary. I have just been apprised of the communication regarding charges against many fleet officers. I am in the process of dealing with it. All units are to hold in assigned orbits and to refrain from any unauthorized actions. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
He handed the comm unit to Desjani. “I need you to start putting out this fire now. Get outside the security block and transmit that, then keep anyone from doing anything stupid.”
“I’m not one of the living stars,” Desjani complained as she took the comm unit. “And even they can’t stop stupid.”
“If you tell everyone that I just found out and am dealing with it, they’ll believe you. They’ll listen to you.”
Her eyes locked on his. “In what capacity am I acting? According to this message, I should immediately surrender command of Dauntless .”
“You are commanding officer of Dauntless until you hear otherwise from me.” It wasn’t proper. It wasn’t by the book. He had no authority to tell her that except for his superior rank. But Black Jack Geary could get away with doing it. If he didn’t disregard the book at that moment, then the mess facing them would spiral into a destructive reentry very quickly. “Admiral Timbale, I would appreciate your assistance to Captain Desjani in this matter. I don’t know how much influence she’ll have over nonfleet military in this star system.”
“Probably more than you think,” Timbale suggested. “Everyone knows your . . . relationship. But it will take both of us to try to keep a lid on this. If I read attitudes in the fleet correctly, they’ll be certain these charges are just the first salvo, and your arrest will be right behind it. Too many warships will want to start peeling this station open like an onion until they get you out. And if that happens, somebody else will surely shoot back.”
“Maybe I should go back with you,” Geary said. “Postpone the meeting and—”
“Then the government might well assume that you’re behind the fleet’s sudden aggressive movements! There’s no guarantee that the fleet will immediately accept messages from you as being legitimate, unforced, and unaltered.”
All he could do was look to the one person who had never failed him. “Tanya.”
Desjani held up both hands. “All right. I’m on it, Admiral. I’m not Black Jack Geary, but I’ll do my best.” Another one of those sayings common in the fleet that made Geary wince when he heard them, but in this case all too literally true. She stepped back and saluted.
He returned the salute, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, of all the Alliance military units and warships in that star system suddenly erupting into a burst of fratricidal warfare, and of the number of people who would surely die if that happened. Possibly including Tanya. The Alliance itself might well die as a result, spinning apart with less bedlam than the Syndicate Worlds but with the same apparently unstoppable momentum. “Good luck, Tanya.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a bad-ass battle cruiser captain. You’re the one who has to keep the politicians and fleet headquarters from screwing up the universe. If anyone can stop them, it’s you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the lack of pressure.”
“Don’t mention it. And don’t take too long in that meeting, or there won’t be much left of this star system.”
TWO
IT was easy to forget how much you depended on being able to get information quickly. Easy until you were inside a security perimeter that jammed all signals to ensure that no information leaked out and cut off connections to interior databases and displays. Now, with the fleet certainly in turmoil, he had no idea what was happening and how successful Tanya was being at keeping the situation under control. Not that he doubted her abilities, but anyone with common sense knew that there were always some factors beyond the ability of any human to direct.
He wanted to get to the meeting now and get things under control now, but the damned station was too big, every passageway too long, every checkpoint too slow to pass him through. With every step, Geary feared feeling the shudder of explosions being transmitted through the structure of the station as open combat erupted. He had felt the impacts of weaponry on ships. The hammerblows of missiles striking home, the trembling as hell-lance particle beams tore through metal and everything else in their path, the brutal hail of grapeshot pounding a hull in staccato rhythms. Would those things feel different on something as massive as this space station? How deeply would a hell lance penetrate into the structure if fired from close in?
Oddly enough, wondering about those things and trying to figure out answers from his experience served as a calming distraction. Trying to anticipate the effects of combat damage was comfortingly familiar, whereas confronting politicians with unknown agendas remained something Geary found uncomfortable and foreign. I’d rather be shot at than deal with politicians. And the strange thing is that every sailor in the fleet would understand that and agree.
The soldiers he encountered at different checkpoints were drawn from a variety of units and organizations. He had experienced very little interaction with ground forces since being awakened from survival sleep, and all of that limited contact had been in the last couple of weeks. Now he studied these men and women, trying to evaluate their capabilities, their feelings, and their effectiveness. The fleet and even the notoriously tradition-bound Marines had been changed by the very long and very bloody war. How deeply had the ground forces fallen into the fleet’s regression to charging straight at the enemy without regard for odds, tactics, or maneuvering? Had the ground forces also fallen back on rigid definitions of honor and an emphasis on blind courage to replace the skills of leaders who rarely survived long enough to become veterans?
All of the soldiers were stiffly professional with him, doubtless fearing that they were somehow being monitored by more than one superior officer; but most still looked at Geary in a way that revealed their feelings, no different from those of the civilian crowds even if much more disciplined and concealed.
Geary passed through checkpoint after checkpoint, everything remaining quiet as far as he could tell, though buried inside the station he could discern very little. The absence of anyone else at some points in the passageways between checkpoints felt eerie, like being in a derelict facility in a meager star system bypassed by the hypernet and now abandoned by its few human inhabitants. After weeks of trying to avoid crowds, he found himself wishing for at least a few other people within line of sight.
Finally, six more checkpoints beyond the first, Geary found himself being led toward a conference room remarkable only for the symbols by its open door that revealed it to be a high-security, sealed compartment guaranteed to be as impervious to outside surveillance as any room could be. “How tight is this conference room?” he asked the Alliance special forces commandos forming the last layer of security, wondering how much security technology might have advanced but also recalling the many times that Victoria Rione had demonstrated the ability to get through security barriers with the right equipment and software.
The major in command looked momentarily stunned at being personally addressed by Geary, then recovered. “Completely tight, Admiral Geary. According to specifications on these systems, even the environmental systems are self-contained. Once the hatch is sealed, you are as totally isolated from the outside universe as human engineering can manage. Nothing comes in or out. There are even quantum-level jammers that were very recently installed though no one can actually conduct surveillance at that level yet.”
No one human could, anyway. The politicians had,
so far at least. kept secret the aliens’ ability to use quantum worms in human operating systems. “Impressive,” Geary said. “How does the room handle trapped heat from people and equipment if it’s that tightly sealed off?”
The major looked to a lieutenant, who looked to a sergeant, who replied in the brisk tones of a senior enlisted telling officers things they should already know. “There is no way to bleed off trapped heat, sir. It builds up and creates a serious problem within half an hour given three or more occupants using personal electronics.”
“Will that be a problem, Admiral?” the major asked.
“Not at all,” Geary said. “I need to get things done fast right now, and in general, I like the idea of a conference room that becomes uninhabitable after half an hour.”
The major hesitated as if not certain what he was allowed to say, then grinned. “I’ve wished for that more than once myself, Admiral.”
The commandos assumed sentry positions as Geary rapped on the hatch, opened it, and walked into the room.
His eyes went first to the familiar face of Senator Navarro, who was rising from his chair to greet Geary. Beside him stood another male politician from the grand council, the enigmatic Senator Sakai, who had accompanied the fleet on the campaign that had ended the war. But he had done so as a representative of those members of the grand council who trusted Geary the least. How much had the experience convinced Sakai that Geary was no threat to the Alliance? On the other side of the room sat Senator Suva, a thin woman whom Geary also remembered being on the council, and who had demonstrated as little trust in the military as the military itself had in politicians.
Three senators. No military besides him. The room was even smaller than the conference room on Dauntless, but with its security requirements must lack any virtual conference capability that would allow many more people to attend. To one side, a display showed the star system and all of the military units within it; but the display was static, clearly not receiving any inputs to keep it constantly updating. Geary saluted, trying to keep from exploding with impatience. “Senator Navarro, I—”
The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught Page 3
