Which explained why the ambassador hadn’t tried to assert this authority before they left Varandal. They’d wanted to box him in at a point where he’d feel compelled to go along. Where his sense of responsibility would force him to comply.
This had been planned, perhaps from the moment he received his orders at Unity. A way to make him unquestionably submit to a civilian superior, even though he’d made clear over and over that he respected the fact that he worked for the government and would obey its orders. Yet instead of being up-front about their concerns, they’d tried to pin him between his sense of responsibility and his personal honor.
“I can walk away and I will,” Geary said, surprised at how emotionless his voice sounded.
“You can’t—” Rycerz glared at him, plainly thrown off by his refusal to go along. “That’s it? You’d surrender everything you have? Surrender all of your responsibilities and your standing?”
“My standing? Do you think being fleet commander matters to me?” Geary said. “Do you think I love the status and the rank? That’s never why I served.”
“What about all the men and women in the fleet? What will happen to them if you walk away?”
He felt his own face stiffening at her words, anger threatening to loose his tongue. But in that moment what came to his mind was his brief meeting with the old sergeant on Glenlyon. The sole survivor of the survivors. Officers in the chain of command must have known that unit was being dropped into an impossible situation, that the attack was sure to result in disaster. But had anyone spoken up? Had anyone sacrificed their career in an attempt to save those soldiers? Maybe some had, and hadn’t been listened to. That had happened far too often in military history, and history as a whole. Cassandra had been right, even though her fellow Trojans blamed the gods for their own failure to believe her. But, as also happened far too often, others had surely gone along with what they knew was a mistake, convincing themselves that staying in their position was best in the long run.
And over a thousand soldiers, over a thousand men and women, had died, to no purpose.
He knew what he owed that old sergeant. And what he owed those now in the fleet.
Geary kept his voice calm. “I’m not irreplaceable. I will not buy one minute longer in command of the fleet if the cost of that minute is one life that could’ve been saved if I’d been listened to. This isn’t my choice. It’s yours. If you disagree with my orders, you can appoint another commander. And any repercussions of that decision will rest on your shoulders, not mine.”
Rycerz sat back again, her expression as hard as his own must be. “You know I can’t accept your resignation. I don’t like being blackmailed.”
“Neither do I,” Geary said.
Another period of silence for several seconds was broken by the ambassador. “Perhaps a cool-down period would be wise.”
“I agree,” Geary said. “Until I get a formal order from you to the contrary, my ships will continue to follow the self-defense guidelines I have authorized.”
“Understood,” Ambassador Rycerz said, ending the call.
That hadn’t gone very well.
He was still going over the conversation in his mind, trying to figure out where it’d gone off the rails and concluding that the ambassador had badly misjudged how he’d react to coercion, when General Charban called.
“Is this a bad time?” Charban asked, eyeing Geary’s expression.
“Yes,” Geary said, “but I need to get past it. What do you need?”
“Dr. Macadams has issued another demand that we turn over all of our equipment to him.” Charban made an apologetic gesture. “I don’t have the authority to deny his, um, request.”
“I do,” Geary said. “Tell Dr. Macadams—” No. He couldn’t give in to that temptation. “Don’t answer him. Don’t do what he wants, but don’t bother replying to him. He knows he’s supposed to submit any requests for support through me.”
“No matter how many times he’s told he can’t tell us what to do, I don’t think Dr. Macadams views his demands as requests,” General Charban said.
“That’s not my problem,” Geary said. “It’s not yours, either.”
“All right, Admiral.” Charban paused. “Is there anything . . . ?”
“Nothing you should concern yourself with,” Geary said, immediately feeling that sounded too much like he was dismissing Charban as well as his worries. “The ambassador and I have been discussing policy.”
“Oh. Is there anything I can help with?”
“It involves the Syndics, not the Dancers.”
“Then good luck,” Charban said. “Would you like some good news? Dr. Kottur has been speaking with us. He’s trying to learn as much as possible about the Dancers.”
“The Dancers?” Geary frowned. “Why is Dr. Kottur interested in them? His team is supposed to do their work at Midway. If it works, if they manage to link Midway’s gate to the Alliance hypernet, they can all go straight home from there and never encounter the Dancers.”
“Perhaps Dr. Kottur can take over for Macadams,” Charban suggested.
“I won’t get my hopes up,” Geary said. Dr. Kottur was so easy to work with. Always smiling and friendly.
Smiling faces.
Damn. Between the ambassador’s surprise demands and the problems with Macadams, he was becoming paranoid.
* * *
ANOTHER meeting to not look forward to. But an important meeting nonetheless. And one Geary felt he had to honor in order to show Ambassador Rycerz that he had meant what he said about listening to people before making up his mind. Plus he wanted to see how Colonel Webb acted toward him, whether the ambassador had shared any unhappiness with Geary with the colonel.
Lieutenant Iger was waiting in the secure conference room when Geary arrived, coming to attention. “Colonel Webb is standing by, sir.”
“Let’s get going, then.” Geary took a seat while Iger activated the room’s security systems, then established the link with Boundless.
The virtual image of Colonel Webb appeared, standing at attention.
“Please take a seat, Colonel,” Geary said.
Webb sat down in a seat aboard the other ship, the conferencing software making him appear to sit at the table opposite Geary and Iger.
Lieutenant Iger remained standing. He took a deep breath. “Here’s what we’ve been able to determine on the bug found earlier in this compartment,” he said before calling up screens full of technical data.
Colonel Webb looked over the screens, which were mimicked on the table he was sitting at on Boundless. Geary listened, saying nothing, as Webb and Iger discussed the data, throwing around terms that Geary didn’t fully understand.
He waited, though, to see if Webb would try to bully Iger, to try to dress him down for things Iger hadn’t been able to determine.
That didn’t happen. After a good half an hour of back-and-forth, Webb let out a deep breath of exasperation. “Lieutenant, you seem to have done all of your homework on this. What I’m seeing agrees that even though we can’t identify with any certainty the origin of the tick, it shows a couple of indications of not being of military origin.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Iger said. “If I had to make a call, I would say it’s from a civilian manufacturing source.”
“Which doesn’t mean whoever planted it is a civilian,” Webb said unhappily. He looked at Geary. “Admiral, if someone in the military, one of my people for example, planted that tick they’d probably try to get a tick that didn’t come from a military source.”
He understood that. “To divert suspicion from themselves.”
“Exactly.” Webb glared at the technical screens as if they were an enemy. “It tells us nothing. It doesn’t rule out anybody.”
“You’re certain it wasn’t any of your people?” Geary asked.
“As certain as I can be. They’ve been asked directly if they pulled this stunt. Sometimes operators do that,” Webb explained. “For fun. And if they get caught they say it was a training exercise, and congratulations you did a great job catching them. None of my people would dare try that, though.”
“How can you be so sure?” Geary asked, once again wondering if Webb himself might’ve been involved.
Webb’s face went rigid for a moment before relaxing a little in an obvious effort. “You wouldn’t be aware of this, sir. When I was a junior officer, a friend of mine who was also a junior officer died when his team leader decided to launch an unauthorized mission. The team leader was afraid if he asked for permission it’d be denied. And for good reason. It was a stupid mission. But my friend and the rest of the team didn’t know that. They died.” Colonel Webb inhaled slowly. “No one plays games in my units, Admiral. If anyone does something unauthorized, I will make them pay the maximum price I can exact. My people know that.”
That put a new spin on things. Geary nodded slowly to give himself time to think. “I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.”
“We all lost a lot of friends,” Webb said in the manner of someone who didn’t want to dwell on it. “I don’t want to lose any more. Which is why this bothers me. We’ve got someone with access to this place, or access to someone with access to the compartment that you’re in, who wanted to know what was being discussed here. But we have no idea who they are or their motives.”
“Admiral Geary has been concerned about anti-Dancer sentiment,” Lieutenant Iger said, not realizing that he was sharing something Geary didn’t want Webb to know.
But Webb didn’t act defensively, instead frowning in thought. “That doesn’t narrow things down, though. If we’re talking about people who wouldn’t want this mission to succeed, it includes a lot of possibilities. The Syndics, former Syndics, Alliance personnel with anti-alien sentiment, and those personally opposed to the admiral here, among others.”
Lieutenant Iger paused. “Sir, I hate to direct attention at a civilian, but . . .”
“Macadams?” Colonel Webb asked. “He certainly seems determined to sabotage the mission, doesn’t he? He’s being watched. Which unfortunately means he’d have had trouble doing this, I think.”
This seemed as good an opportunity as any to learn more about Colonel Webb’s feelings toward the Dancers. “Lieutenant Iger has been one of the leads on communicating with the Dancers. If you have questions about them, he’s one of the best qualified to answer.”
“Iger. Yes,” Webb said. “I read the report compiled by General Charban with your assistance. I did have a few questions. This pattern thing. How well does it help predict their actions?”
“Not very well,” Iger said. “The problem is their actions seem to be governed by how they perceive humanity fitting into some larger pattern, but we don’t know what that pattern is. It’s like trying to predict which way a ground vehicle will go when you don’t have a road map. The vehicle is going to follow the roads, but we don’t know where they are.”
“Huh.” Webb chewed that over for a few seconds. “They seemed to know about the Defender fleet.”
“Yes, sir. They sent help for us against it.”
“Any idea how they knew?”
“No,” Geary said. “I’ve talked this over with everyone. Either the Dancers have some ability to tap into what the Alliance was doing, or they somehow picked up some other indications.”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Iger said, “I’ve wondered about something regarding that. Do you suppose we’re not the only intelligent species to have built something like the Defender fleet? Maybe others have, including maybe the Dancers themselves. That would have told them what to look for, and might be why they knew we’d need help.”
This time both Geary and Webb fell silent while considering that idea. “It’s certainly possible,” Geary finally said.
Webb fixed Iger and then Geary with an intent look. “In your opinion, have these aliens been eager to help us?”
“Eager?” Geary sat back, thinking. “I’m not sure that’s the right word.”
“Usually it’s more like willing to help,” Iger said. “That’s how I’d characterize it. Like when we were trying to communicate with them, they could’ve told us they needed patterns in the words of our messages, but they didn’t. It’s like they were waiting until we figured it out.”
“They didn’t establish contact with us,” Geary said, “even though they could have. They waited until we reached them.”
“Interesting.”
“Why did you ask that?” Geary said.
“In my experience, Admiral, when people are very eager to help they either need something from you very badly, or are trying to lure you into some trap. That doesn’t mean the aliens would operate the same way as humans, but it might’ve been something to consider.” Webb shrugged. “But that’s not an issue here. I’m intrigued. I’ve spent a long time trying to anticipate the most likely actions of people. Trying to do the same with these aliens will be a real challenge. Speaking of different ways of thinking, though, how confident are we about the actions and intentions of the people running Midway Star System?”
“They seem to be sincere in wanting to build something stable,” Lieutenant Iger offered. “The times we’ve been at Midway we’ve picked up a lot of traffic indicating overhauls of the justice system, for example. Not just changes to the surface appearance, but fundamental shifts.”
“I’ve been able to work with them,” Geary said. “And they’ve proven reliable enough that I thought assistance to them was a good idea.”
“Do you mean assigning Captain Bradamont to stay at Midway? If she—” Colonel Webb, usually able to maintain a poker face, showed a flash of understanding. “Ah. Certainly. Lieutenant Iger, thank you. You did a first-class job analyzing that bug. Keep me informed—I’m sorry. I keep forgetting I’m not in the military chain of command here. Admiral, can Lieutenant Iger keep me informed of any new developments or findings regarding that bug?”
“Of course,” Geary said.
“Thank you. Admiral, may I speak privately to you for just a moment?”
“Yes,” Geary said, wondering what this latest thing was about.
After Lieutenant Iger had left, Colonel Webb turned an openly admiring look on Geary. “Admiral, I admit I got taken in by the Bradamont thing.”
Not sure what Webb meant, Geary confined his reply to a small smile that hopefully looked like he knew what was being discussed.
“You needed a mole with access to the highest level of the leadership at Midway,” Webb continued. “She needed your help. You gave her an out, gaining her gratitude, and you’ve still got leverage over her. And because of the Syndic connection she’s been accepted by them. That’s just brilliant tradecraft, sir.”
“It seemed like the best way to handle things,” Geary said, deciding that contradicting Webb wouldn’t serve any purpose.
“Admiral, you’ve got an amazing ability to cause opponents to underestimate you,” Webb said. “No wonder you’ve won so many fights. I’m looking forward to continuing to work with you. I’ll see if I can find any new leads on that bug, and let you know if I do. By your leave, sir. To the honor of our ancestors.” Webb ended the link.
Geary sat still, trying to decide whether Colonel Webb’s last statements had been compliments or not. Finally, he got up, thinking that he wished he were half as clever as other people seemed to think he was.
Lieutenant Iger was waiting just outside. “Admiral, I wanted to let you know Dr. Kottur contacted me again for more information on the situation at Midway Star System. He was particularly interested in the Syndic software for preventing a catastrophic collapse of their hypernet gate.”
“Do we have a copy of that software?”
“No, sir. Just some older versions of th
e standard Syndicate Worlds anti-collapse system. It’s certain that Midway has made some local modifications to prevent the Syndicate Worlds from using back doors and vulnerabilities that exist in the standard system.”
“I guess Dr. Kottur and his team want to get a head start on their work at Midway,” Geary said. “But they’ll have to wait until we get there.”
* * *
THE rest of the transit through Atalia had been gratifyingly quiet, though in a star system littered with so much wreckage of human works, and the remains of humans who had died among them, the quiet could seem eerie at times. Sailors on the Alliance warships muttered prayers to their ancestors and, as sailors had always done, waited out the time until their crossing of this forlorn region should be over. The distance between the jump point where they’d arrived from Varandal and the jump point that would take them to Kalixa was four light hours, or roughly four billion three hundred million kilometers. Even at point one light speed, or about thirty thousand kilometers per second, covering that distance took forty hours.
Like the sailors, Geary had waited, too. Waited to hear from Ambassador Rycerz. But nothing had come from her since the meeting that had ended so badly.
He sat on the bridge of Dauntless, standing by until he could order the fleet to jump. Tension tightened his muscles in expectation that he’d receive a last-moment order from the ambassador, an order that might require him to delay the jump until a new fleet commander could be appointed.
“She won’t do it,” Captain Desjani murmured just loud enough for him to hear. “They need you too badly.”
He’d confided in Tanya, of course. She’d instantly seen something was wrong, and he’d needed someone to hash over the matter with, to see if his own perceptions of what had happened were amiss. “That’s good,” he muttered in reply. “And bad.”
“We’re about to jump,” she reminded him.
Which meant there was a message he needed to send. “All units, this is Admiral Geary. Prepare to jump for Kalixa. We don’t know what we’ll encounter there, so be prepared for anything when we arrive. Self-defense measures are authorized, but make sure you know what you’re shooting at before you fire, and make sure you have no alternative.” That was a tough set of conditions to set for his ship commanders, but then being a ship commander meant being expected to handle such things, and make the right decisions even when only a few seconds were allowed to decide them. “We expect to jump in five minutes. Geary, out.”
Boundless Page 25
