The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Invincible

by Campbell, Jack

  Rione answered. “That message may exceed our vocabulary, Admiral, but we’ll do our best.”

  What else? Something behind him. Another call. “Admiral Lagemann.”

  Lagemann looked more than a little haggard but still cheerful. Given the rough living conditions on the captured ship, Geary was only surprised that the other admiral didn’t look worse. “I’m going ahead. Captain Armus is in charge of the formation around your ship. He won’t let anything through to you.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Lagemann replied. “If something does get through, I’ve got an impressive force of Marines to defend my ship. I never imagined going into combat in something like this.”

  “We’ll try to keep you out of combat.”

  “Well,” Lagemann said, waving a hand around to indicate his surroundings, “if worse comes to worst, at least there’s a lot of armor and a lot of mass between us and whoever is attacking. Did I tell you that I’ve christened my ship?”

  “No,” Geary said. “You gave it a name?”

  “Yes. A fitting name. I’m tired of hearing my ship called BKS or LCCO or RBST or—”

  “RBST?” Geary asked.

  “Really Big Slow Target. I came up with a much better name.” Lagemann grinned. “This is the latest Invincible, Admiral.”

  Lagemann might be pleased by the joke but Geary didn’t think that Desjani or a lot of other sailors would be. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Yes, I do. First, because it’s so damned big and hard to destroy. Second, because it’s already been defeated and captured once. It’s already been proven not to be truly Invincible. Maybe the Kicks thought of it that way, but we showed them wrong.” Lagemann smiled again. “So you see, naming it Invincible is our acknowledgment of their error in thinking they could construct a ship too big and too tough to be defeated.”

  In a strange way, that almost made sense. “You’re assuming that the living stars appreciate irony.”

  “Good heavens, Admiral, look at the universe. If whatever created and oversees it doesn’t appreciate irony, how else do you explain some of the things in the universe? How else do explain us, the human race?”

  Admiral Lagemann had a point. “How does your crew feel about the name?” It wasn’t a very big crew, especially compared to the size of the superbattleship, only about a hundred officers and sailors plus the Marines.

  “Surprisingly accepting,” Lagemann said. “Some of them are off of the last Invincible, and all of them like the idea of trying to break the curse of that name. And, of course, the Marines are all in favor of being a threat magnet.”

  “Really?” Geary asked.

  “All right, the Marines aren’t actually all that thrilled, but they still like the thickness of the armor on this thing. Excuse me, on the new Invincible.”

  “I’ll say good luck, then, and we’ll see you at Midway.” Geary broke the connection, looking over at Desjani. “Did you hear any of that?”

  She had a horrified expression on her face, which gradually shaded into mere disbelief. “He’s willing to do that? He’s crazier than Benan.”

  “If he calls that hulk Invincible, then the fleet can’t name any new ships Invincible, right?”

  Desjani’s expression shifted to calculation. “Right. I think. And those superbattleships are very hard to kill.” She gestured toward her display. Geary saw that Desjani had opened a large virtual window that showed a view of the bear-cow ship—the Invincible, he corrected himself. Close-up, he saw the same armored hull he had last viewed this way during the Marine assault. The impression of strength was overwhelming in that surface of metal and composites, in some places pitted and scored by hits and in most others smooth and bright so that the stars themselves seemed to reflect in the dark surface.

  “How do you make armor that thick?” Geary wondered.

  “I imagine that’s one of the things our own engineers and scientists will try to learn,” Desjani said. “It’s not my thing. I like speed and agility as well as power. But even I look at that hull, the size of that ship, and think, ‘Wow, that is cool.’”

  “But it’s not really invincible.”

  “No, of course not. But that Admiral Lagemann may be right. It’s a way of saying, ‘We get it, living stars. We know this name doesn’t fit even this ship because we’ve proven that it doesn’t.’”

  They were interrupted by a call. Geary gazed into the solemn face of Dr. Nasr. “Two more of the bear-cows died during our transit here from Hua,” the chief medical officer said. “As nearly as we can tell, they were oversedated, but that’s not a certainty.”

  That left three living Kick prisoners. Geary looked away, feeling sick inside. “Why won’t they let us save them?”

  “We’ve discussed this, Admiral. To them, we’re only saving them for a future meal with fresh meat.”

  “Doctor, I’d like your honest opinion. What’s the right thing to do here?”

  Nasr sighed. “Admiral, the guiding rule of my profession is not to harm. That sounds like a simple rule, but any doctor with any experience will tell you that it can lead to severe dilemmas if you take the rule seriously. We tried to do the right thing as we saw it, to treat the injuries of the wounded bear-cows and save their lives. And we did that not just out of self-interest but because we truly wanted a chance to establish communications with their species. But you know the saying about the road to hell. Our best intentions have created a situation where every option is bad.

  “They’re going to die, Admiral. We don’t know enough about their metabolism, about their bodies. Either we will oversedate them, or we will undersedate them. A moment of consciousness, of awareness, and the bear cows will end their own lives. Enough oversedation, and they’ll die anyway.”

  Geary stared at the doctor. “You’re telling me I should let them die?”

  “No. I can’t do that. What I am telling you is that they will die, the only question being when and where. You can order me to reduce sedation, or order me to increase it. Or tell me that we should continue to try to tread the narrow line to keep them going as long as possible.”

  “Doctor, I can’t tell you to kill them. Will they suffer if we keep trying to do our best?”

  “Suffer? No. They’ll simply go from sedated to dead, or from sedated to aware to dead. I don’t know if the dying process hurts, but from the readings we got on the one who killed himself and the autopsy, it doesn’t seem to cause trauma. Instead, the body floods itself with chemicals and hormones that block pain and might well create delusions while they cause metabolic functions to very quickly shut down.”

  It sounded almost pleasant. No pain. Perhaps visions of whatever the dying creature most wanted to see. Comfort. But to deliberately cause even that to happen . . . “Maintain your efforts to keep them alive. Those are our rules. I admit that. But those are the only rules I can use.”

  “We allow an ending when all hope is gone and the patient rejects artificial intervention,” Dr. Nasr pointed out.

  “Hope is not gone,” Geary said, wondering whether he believed that.

  The doctor nodded. Geary never had been able to get the medical staff to grasp the idea of saluting superior officers. “There’s one more issue, Admiral. The Syndicate Worlds’ citizens we rescued from the enigmas. Have you made any decision as to their disposition?”

  “No, Doctor, I haven’t. I’ve just played divine judge once with those bear-cows. Do I have to do it again with the Syndics?”

  “Yes, Admiral, you do. If you turn them over to Syndicate Worlds’ authorities, you know what will happen to them. They will be treated like lab animals, worse even than what the enigmas did to those people.”

  Geary shook his head angrily. “If I take them back to the Alliance, they are liable to be treated the same way! Our researchers may make noises about respecting their dignity and humanity, but the end result will be the same.” He pulled up a report he recalled seeing, scanning the information in it to confirm his memor
ies. “Those Syndic citizens have been asked what they want, and all of them said that they want to go home.”

  “Do you want to go home, Admiral?”

  “I—” Yes. But my home no longer exists. It went away a long time ago. And if I went to where home used to be, I wouldn’t have a moment of peace. Just like those poor three hundred thirty-three Syndics. “I understand, Doctor. I really do. I promise you that I will take no action without carefully considering the well-being of those people.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. I can’t ask for more than that.”

  Geary slumped back, tired of making hard decisions, especially when the right thing to do was far from clear.

  “Admiral?” Desjani said in a soft voice.

  “Yes?”

  “While you were talking to the doctor, we got another high-priority message for you. Captain Jane Geary requests a meeting as soon as possible.”

  Oh, great. He had known that was coming, though, and with the battle cruisers drawing steadily away from the battleships, the longer he put this off, the bigger the time delays between ships would be and the longer a painful conversation would take. “I’ll call her from my stateroom.”

  “Don’t beat around the bush. Don’t try to spare her feelings. Be as blunt and clear as possible. And for the love of our ancestors, don’t tell her I gave you any of that advice.”

  He sat on the bridge for a few more minutes, watching the enigma attack force vanishing as it jumped for Midway. That had actually happened hours ago, but seeing the event take place as the light from it finally reached them still carried a sense of immediacy. “All right. I’m off to speak with my grandniece.”

  He double-checked the security settings on his comm software before calling Dreadnaught. Experience had taught him that security with comms was never absolute, but he still had to try to keep this conversation private.

  The image of Jane Geary appeared in his stateroom. She didn’t look happy, but then he hadn’t expected her to. “Admiral, I must respectfully request the reasons for my being passed over to command the main body of the fleet.”

  He could take a personal tack in answering her, or he could reply with the same sort of professional smoke screen that Jane Geary had repeatedly thrown up to hide her own feelings. Despite Desjani’s advice, he decided to open with that second option. “Captain Geary,” he began in a formal voice, “I chose the officer who in my opinion was best suited to carry out the tasks the main body has been assigned.”

  “If this is about the rumors that you are favoring me, it is unfair to penalize me because others have spread such a false accusation, Admiral.”

  Geary had to pause before replying. There are rumors that I’m giving Jane Geary special treatment? Why hasn’t Tanya told me about them? But then, she might not have heard. Who would repeat that gossip to Tanya?

  And what’s the basis for such rumors? I commended her after the battle at Honor, but who could object to that? “Captain Geary, I assure you that my decision did not take into any account such rumors.” Since I hadn’t heard them, that’s as true a statement as I’ve ever made.

  It was Jane Geary’s turn to hesitate before speaking again. “Why am I not the officer best suited to command the main body?”

  Did he tell her the truth? If he didn’t, wouldn’t he bear responsibility for anything she did? He could see in his mind’s eye Tanya giving him a severe look. Be as blunt and clear as possible. “I’m going to be direct, Captain Geary. The commanding officer of Dreadnaught who I first met at Varandal would have received that assignment. She was aggressive and smart, she was dependable and capable. I could feel confident that I knew what she would do. In the time since we have left Varandal on this mission, I have grown increasingly less certain as to what you would do in any situation.”

  She paled, then reddened. “In what way have I failed my duties? Which mission have I failed to carry out? I heard no fault being given for my actions at Honor.”

  “It is impossible to fault your actions at Honor,” Geary said. “As my commendation of you for that engagement stated, you acted in the highest and finest traditions of the Alliance fleet. But,” he added as she started to speak, “I don’t need to know whether or not one of my commanding officers can act heroically. It’s my job to do my best to prevent anyone from having to do that. When my efforts fail, then someone may have to step up as you did. The problem, Captain Geary, is that you have developed a pattern of wanting to act heroically even when that is not required. You want to be a hero. There are few things more dangerous to a ship, to a crew, to a fleet, than a commanding officer who wants to be a hero.”

  As Jane Geary stared at him, he could almost see the professional armor cracking and falling away. “You . . .” she struggled to say. “You are Black Jack. He—”

  “I am not the figure of legend. Everything I have done is because it was required of me, because I had to do it, not because I sought it.”

  “That is not how everyone else sees it!” She didn’t seem aware that she had yelled that.

  “Everyone else doesn’t know me. I have tried to get to know you, to establish a personal relationship, but—”

  “Why didn’t you go to Glenlyon? They were waiting for you. They got me. The grandniece who is only good enough to be a battleship captain. I got to hear endless orations about Black Jack, and about my heroic brother, who fought under his command!”

  Geary shot to his feet, feeling anger working in him. “You fought under my command at Varandal, and you fought damned well. Jane, you did what was necessary at Honor. What worries me is that you do the same kind of things when they aren’t necessary. Tell me the truth. When you acted at Honor, were you thinking about anything other than what needed to be done?”

  Her jaw muscles stood out as she stared at him, then Jane Geary spoke in a strangled voice. “I was scared. All I was thinking was that this was the only way. I didn’t think the use of kinetic projectiles would work, but I was desperate. And ever since then, while everybody tells me how brave I was to lead that charge, all I can think about is how scared I was. There. You wanted the truth. You have it. I’m no hero. I’m not even a good officer. When I faced that situation, I was terrified.”

  It was his turn to stare, then he laughed, seeing the shock on her face and the growing anger after it. “Jane . . . please . . . I’m not . . . Ancestors preserve us. What do you think courage is?”

  “Being unafraid when you face danger! Everybody knows—”

  “Then everybody is wrong.” Geary sat down again, looking at her. “You were terrified? Do you have any idea how frightened I was at Grendel? My ship was shot to pieces under me, the only crew left on Merlon were me and the dead, the power core self-destruct had been activated, and I couldn’t find a working escape pod.”

  “You couldn’t find—? Nobody ever said that.”

  “Nobody else knows! Except Tanya Desjani. And now you. Jane, when I was a lot younger, my father told me something. We were talking about heroes. I remember that I’d been reading histories and saying how great these people were who hadn’t been afraid when they faced great challenges. And my father laughed a lot harder than I just did; and then he said that courage wasn’t the absence of fear. Courage, real bravery, is being afraid and doing what you need to do anyway. I didn’t believe him. Not really.” Geary took a deep breath. “Not until I was on Merlon and ordering the surviving crew to evacuate while I kept fighting the ship a little longer. Not until I was pulling myself along a passageway littered with wreckage and the dead, trying to find a way off of a crippled ship that was about to explode.”

  Jane Geary looked down at the deck. “People have told me that, too. I haven’t believed them. I feel like a fraud.”

  “You’re human, Jane. And a good officer when you’re not trying to prove that you’re a hero. You showed that when you charged the enemy at Honor, thinking only of the necessity of doing that despite how scared you were.” Did she believe him? He couldn’t tell.
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  When she finally spoke again, it was in a voice so low he could barely hear. “Was Michael scared?”

  “When he used Repulse to hold off the Syndics so the rest of the fleet could get away? Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  Why hadn’t he? He suddenly understood the reason why he had been reticent before this. “Because if you haven’t been through something like that,” Geary said slowly, “then telling someone that the person who did it was scared can sound like a criticism, a put-down, instead of what it really is—a testament to just how brave they actually were. Now, there are people who get so involved in what they must do, in doing this and that and the next thing, that they don’t have time to be scared. Tanya Desjani is like that. They’re brave, too, just in a different way because they submerge their fears long enough to get the job done. But feeling no fear? That would make machines the bravest things in the universe.”

  She thought about that for a while, then spoke in a firm voice. “What do I need to do?”

  That one was easy. “Be the officer I first saw at Varandal. I don’t need someone trying to prove that she’s Black Jack. I need Jane Geary.”

  She looked up, meeting his eyes, then nodded. “I think I remember her. She was trying to prove something else, though. She was trying to prove who she wasn’t.”

  “We all are trying to prove things. All of the time.” Geary stepped closer, searching her eyes. “Jane, we need to get that superbattleship, the new Invincible, home. Your battleships are the last line of defense before the four battleships towing the new Invincible. Don’t leave them hanging. They need you blocking any attacks that come at them.”

  Her arm came up in a slow salute. “If anything gets through, it won’t be because I let them.”

  After she ended the call, Geary stood looking at where his grandniece’s image had been. Once again, he had ordered her to stand and die. After this talk, he felt confident she would do it, not because of his order but because of who she was. That wouldn’t make him feel any less guilty if this time she did die carrying out his orders.