The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Steadfast

by Jack Campbell

  He usually made only a polite greeting when he saw her doing that, but this time as he walked by Geary saw the two sailors sharing Costa’s table getting up to go, their meals finished. Before the senator could stand as well, Geary came to the table where Costa sat. “How are you doing, Senator?”

  Costa’s smile was as insincere as that of a Syndic CEO. “Not badly, Admiral.”

  “May I join you?”

  “Of course. I’m surprised that you’re seeking out a conversation with me.”

  Around the two of them, the nearest tables were being unobtrusively vacated as the sailors at them moved away. Other crew members who were walking past changed their paths so that they also did not come close. In a matter of seconds, without any obvious message or conversation, a large unoccupied region had appeared around the table where Costa and Geary were, granting them some measure of privacy even in this public area.

  Senator Costa didn’t seem to have noticed, instead waiting expectantly for Geary’s reply, but he noticed one finger tapping the small bracelet on her left wrist twice. Because of his time around Rione, Geary recognized what had happened. Costa had activated a personal security field which would garble the sound of their voices for anyone trying to listen in.

  The senator could be blunt when she wanted to be, and on this occasion Geary decided to do the same, keeping his voice at a normal volume to see how Costa would react. “I was just wondering what information you’ve gathered about how the crew feels,” he asked as he took a seat opposite her.

  The senator’s artificial smile widened. “Is there anything that you are worried about me learning?” Her own voice wasn’t pitched low, so his guess had been right. She wasn’t worried about being overheard.

  “No.” Geary met her eyes with his own. “I want you to know how the crew feels about the Alliance government.”

  “And how they feel about you?” Costa said.

  “There is no disloyalty to the Alliance here.”

  Costa didn’t reply immediately, her false smile being replaced by an appraising look. “I know you toured as many ruins and wrecks on the surface of Old Earth as we did, Admiral. We didn’t have time to see a fraction of what was there, let alone the remnants of the devastation sometimes inflicted elsewhere in this star system.”

  “I saw them,” Geary said. “It’s . . . sobering.”

  “How much was built by the old, great empires, and how much destroyed when those empires fell? No one can calculate the answer to either question.” Costa leaned forward, her expression now challenging. “What will be the cost if the Alliance falls? We’ve seen examples of that in territory that once belonged to the Syndics. What would you do to prevent it, Admiral?”

  “I don’t want it to happen,” Geary said.

  “Everyone says that,” Costa said with a dismissive wave of one hand.

  “The Dancers showed us that we have much in common as humans, that we need to see what we share rather than only the things that we differ on. You said so yourself.”

  “Of course I did,” Costa admitted, with none of the emotion she had betrayed during that event on the surface of Old Earth. “But that doesn’t mean that I have to accept so-called solutions based on soft sentiment rather than hard reality. What will you do, Admiral? What is your solution?”

  “I’m doing it,” Geary said. “I am supporting the government, I am following orders, and I am defending the Alliance against every threat I know of.”

  “Every threat?” Costa’s gaze grew colder. “Are you issuing a warning to me?”

  “That was not my intent,” Geary said. “I’m not threatening anyone. I am following orders and taking what measures I can to preserve the Alliance.”

  “Passive measures! All of them! Would you block others from taking the actions needed to save the Alliance? Would you take the necessary actions yourself?” Senator Costa pressed.

  Geary said his next words with great care. “Opinions differ on what will save the Alliance and what actions are necessary.”

  “But you feel qualified to decide? You who slept through the long trauma of the war with the Syndics?”

  “I experienced the beginning of that war,” Geary said, hearing a trace of anger enter his voice and trying to eliminate it. “I was there at the end of it, as well.” I brought about the end of it, but I won’t say that. I won’t boast about something like that which I survived and so many others did not. “When I awoke, I was told about a lot of things that had been done because they were judged necessary to win the war. None of them had worked, and some had, in my judgment, actually kept the war going. As a result, I am skeptical of things that are claimed to be necessary to save the Alliance.”

  Costa smiled again, a movement of her lips only. Nothing else about her expression reflected emotions appropriate to a smile. “Modest words. But if you block others, you are yourself deciding what is necessary and what is not. Some of us do not want to see the Alliance go the way of those ancient empires, do not want to see the chaos and destruction that would follow. We will not permit that to happen. You know the need for a firm hand, the need to employ force without hesitation, just as we did on Europa.”

  Just as we did? Senator Costa had apparently decided to claim ownership of that action now that it was successfully concluded. “Force should never be used except with wisdom and restraint,” Geary said. “What if the actions you deem necessary to save the Alliance actually bring about the chaos and destruction you want to prevent?” he asked, remembering when Senator Sakai had asked him pretty much that same question.

  Another fake smile, as Costa leaned back with feigned informality. “Who said anything about me?”

  Geary managed his own false smile. “No one. I’m sure you wouldn’t propose actions without concern for those who would pay the price for those actions.”

  “We all have to be willing to sacrifice, Admiral.”

  “It seems to me that some people are expected to sacrifice a great deal more than others.”

  Costa’s look of benign superiority slipped. “That sounds like a very subversive sentiment from someone who claims to support the Alliance government.”

  “Not at all,” Geary said. “The only sentiment I expressed was that I respect the people subject to my orders too much to be careless with their lives.”

  The senator dropped all pretense of camaraderie, her gaze on Geary hardening. “You’re so very sure of yourself. Maybe you should be wondering, Admiral, why the actions I think are necessary have the backing of your fleet headquarters as well as ground forces headquarters. We could use your support as well. But we don’t need it.”

  She stood up, waved a farewell, and walked off through the groups of sailors who opened a path through them for the senator.

  Geary tried to keep his feelings from showing as he stood up. So, whatever actions Senator Costa is pushing aren’t being done behind the backs of fleet headquarters and ground forces headquarters. My own superiors are backing the construction of a secret fleet and support placing Admiral Bloch in command of that fleet even though Bloch planned to stage a military coup before he nearly destroyed the Alliance fleet and was captured by the Syndics.

  Ancestors help us all.

  SIX

  “IS there a reason you’ve been routing these lawsuit notifications to me?” Rione asked, both looking and sounding annoyed.

  Geary rubbed his eyes before looking back at his stateroom comm panel and answering her. “What lawsuit notifications?”

  “At last count, one thousand, three hundred and twelve.”

  “Lawsuits? From who? About what?”

  “Let’s see.” Rione pretended to study a screen in her own stateroom. “Third and fourth cousins of some of the criminals who died on Europa alleging wrongful death, property-damage claims, violation of ecological regulations—”

  “Ecological regula
tions?”

  “We left litter on Europa,” she explained. “Um . . . violation of medical quarantine, those brought on behalf of the entire population of Sol Star System, unlawful confiscation of personal weapons, violation of castle doctrine—”

  “What?”

  “It’s some law about being able to defend your home. Assorted lawyers are claiming that the stealth craft was the home in question and la-di-da.” Rione gave him a flat look. “It appears that a substantial fraction of the population of Sol Star System are lawyers, and it appears that many of them see the Alliance as a cash cow for lawsuits over our actions to recover our two officers and a few other events. You haven’t been forwarding these to me?”

  “No,” Geary said. “I hadn’t seen them.” Which told him exactly who had been forwarding those messages to Rione. Tanya must have gotten quite a kick out of doing that. “But I guess you or the senators are the most appropriate recipients.”

  “Given the lack of an Alliance embassy or interests section in this star system, I suppose we are.”

  “What are you going to do with them?”

  She pondered the question. “I’ll need to get agreement from our three senators on this—”

  “Hell.”

  Rione smiled. “It shouldn’t be that hard in this case. I think all three will agree that sovereign immunity doctrine applies, and therefore I should simply forward all of these notifications back to Sol Star System authorities to deal with. In a few centuries or so, the bureaucracy here will have finished deciding how to handle them, then everyone’s descendants can worry about it.”

  “That sounds like a good solution,” Geary said. “What with the attempts against us, the kidnapping of our lieutenants, and now these lawsuits, I’m beginning to understand why the Alliance doesn’t send official representatives to Sol very often.”

  She nodded. “Sol Star System is heavily infested with lawyers. If that’s not grounds for a quarantine, what is?”

  “Have you heard anything more from any of your friends in this star system?”

  “All that I have heard so far is that whatever outcomes occur as a result of our visit and our actions will take a long time to shake out. We don’t fall into the routine or established narrative here, so most of the population has no knee-jerk reaction to fall back on. They will debate and discuss for a long time rather than rush to judgment.”

  “Except for the lawyers,” Geary pointed out.

  “Well, naturally. That’s about money. I understand that you received a message from Sol as well.”

  Of course, Rione would have known that. “Nothing for you to worry about. I asked a question before we left the first spot we visited on Old Earth, and the answer was sent to me.”

  “The abandoned town?” Rione asked. “In Kansas? What did you ask about it?”

  “One of our escorts said the area was finally recovering from all the blows it had received at the hands of man and nature, and the town might live again. I asked her later if that was true, if there were any plans to rebuild there.”

  “Why did you care? We’ve seen entire star systems that have been abandoned by humans, perhaps forever.”

  “I don’t know why it mattered to me,” Geary admitted. “But I suddenly felt the need to know the answer, and, as I eventually learned, it was yes. Some people have already begun plans to move back there and reconstruct the old town. They’re descendants of those who once lived there, and they want to honor their ancestors by making that town live again now that crops will once again grow there.”

  “It was in pretty bad shape,” Rione observed.

  “They’ll rebuild. They’re planning on reconstructing the old courthouse by hand, just like their ancestors did.”

  “Interesting symbology,” Rione murmured. “Literally rebuilding the past. Refusing to accept a negative outcome and forging a new one. It’s a pity we couldn’t rebuild Europa.”

  “Why did you bring up Europa?” It was only after speaking that he realized how harsh his voice had sounded, how tension had filled his brain with an angry red haze that refused to focus on any particular image.

  She looked at him, her expression displaying a hint of sadness. “While that operation was taking place on the surface of Europa, most of the people on the bridge of this ship were watching what the Marines were doing. I was watching you.”

  “And?” He still sounded angry, still felt that hot tension inside, but he wasn’t sure why.

  “A year ago, I don’t think you could have done it. Everything we did on Europa was necessary. And most of it was also distasteful at best and terrible at the worst.”

  He looked down, avoiding her eyes, focusing on his hands, which had clenched into fists. “We didn’t have any choice.” As he said the words, Geary knew they were defensive, as if he was trying to convince her rather than stating a truth.

  “I know that. But I believe that a year ago, you still couldn’t have forced yourself to give those orders, to allow those actions. You have learned to deal with things you would have once found too horrible to contemplate.”

  Geary took a deep breath, his eyes still locked on his impotent fists. Was that what made him angry? Or afraid? “Just like you. And Tanya. And everyone else alive today.”

  “Not just like us.” He had expected some return anger from her, but just heard the same sadness. He looked up again, watching Rione closely as she kept speaking. “You haven’t learned to live with it. Oh, we take our meds and other treatments to keep going, but we accept that as part of life. The actions and the treatments are necessary. To you, the actions are still wrong even while you recognize the necessity at times. That’s why I watched you, Admiral, instead of watching the Marines. I wanted to see if what the Marines had to do still hit you hard. And it did.”

  “That was important to you?” Geary asked.

  “Yes. I needed to know that, if you had been in the place of that Marine, you could not have pulled the trigger to kill that hostage-taker. The Marine could do it, I could have done it, anyone else on this ship probably could have done it. But not you. And that is very important, Admiral. You are still closer to our ancestors than you are to us. Don’t let that torture you. Embrace it. I didn’t understand it at all when I first met you, but now I think it is very important, though I’m not certain what its eventual impact will be. When is the last time you talked to Senator Suva?” she asked in an abrupt change of topic.

  “Probably at the meeting where they voted to approve the rescue operation on Europa,” Geary said. He didn’t call her on the sudden shift in the conversation, glad to be leaving Europa behind in any way that he could.

  “She knows you talked to Costa and that you talked to Sakai. You should seek her out.”

  “Am I supposed to talk to her about anything in particular?” Geary asked.

  Rione shrugged. “How much you look forward to continuing to serve the Alliance, how much fun we had at Sol, whatever. Just speaking to Suva will reassure her that you aren’t plotting with Costa and Sakai behind her back, and maybe she will spill a little more information like Costa did to you.”

  • • •

  SENATOR Suva was in her stateroom. She invited Geary inside politely enough but stayed seated and didn’t offer him a seat. “Yes, Admiral?”

  “I wanted to ask if you were all right,” Geary said. “You haven’t been out among the crew since we left Europa.”

  “You keep track of my movements, Admiral?” Suva’s voice stayed low, but an edge of steel crept into it.

  “Rarely,” Geary said. “But it’s my job to be aware of your general activities as well as your health. You’ve made a habit of walking through the ship once a day to talk to members of the crew. But you haven’t done that since Europa.”

  “How nice of you to be concerned.” Suva looked away, her eyes hooded. “With all that we ask of the men and wo
men in the Alliance military, it’s a small thing for me to meet some of them and ask how they are, how their families are doing, whether they need anything.”

  “You may think it’s a small thing,” Geary said, “but it has impressed some of them. They believe that Alliance politicians are all alike, and that those politicians don’t care about the fates of men and women like them. It doesn’t hurt at all for them to learn that politicians, like other people, can’t be categorized so simply. But the crew has noticed that you stopped doing your meet and greets since Europa.”

  As the silence lengthened, he wondered if Senator Suva was going to reply. She looked down, twisting a small loop of wooden beads between her fingers. Geary recognized it as similar to the souvenirs many of Dauntless’s crew members had picked up on Old Earth.

  Finally, she grimaced, her gaze still fixed away from him. “I have never . . . had the . . . opportunity . . . to watch our military carry out such an . . . operation.”

  He wasn’t surprised at her reason. “What happened on Europa was ugly. No one was comfortable with what we had to do. And I gave the orders to carry out that operation.”

  Her gaze shifted to him, appraising, worried. “The point is, Admiral, they obeyed those orders. They were willing to obey those orders.”

  “If there had been any alternative—”

  “I have been trying to understand them,” Suva finally said. “Perhaps I’m afraid I will understand them and not like it. Because of what they are willing do.”

  “You think they like war?” Geary asked. “You think they like what happened on Europa?”

  “I mean exactly that. I can’t imagine . . . how? I couldn’t do it. I could not.”

  “That’s why we’re lucky we have people who can do those jobs,” Geary said. “I don’t know if I could shoot someone. I’ve never actually done that.” Suva looked sharply at him, skeptical now. “If I had been in more of the war, involved in a boarding action, it could have happened. But it never did, so I’ve never pointed a weapon at one specific other human being and pulled the trigger. But if you think it’s somehow easy on those who have done it, you’re wrong. The Marines we sent down to Europa were badly rattled by it. They are combatants, not executioners. If the Alliance made a ribbon for that operation, I don’t think any of the Marines would wear it.”