The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Leviathan

by Jack Campbell

  “It beats what we were looking forward to a half hour ago,” Geary said. “Tanya—”

  “Admiral, with all due respect, I am not yet prepared at this time to discuss matters concerning her.”

  “Understood.”

  “Admiral.” General Charban, calling up from the comm compartment, appeared to be dazed. “I have informed the Dancers of what is happening, which took some very creative poetry. I think it is safe to say that they will remain close to us until the shock wave is past. You will recall that Senator Rione was embraced by one of the Dancers. That gave her some special status with them, and these Dancers . . . well, I don’t know if the word means the same thing to them, but they said that the pattern will grieve for her.”

  “Tell the Dancers that we appreciate that,” Geary said.

  “Am I correct, Admiral, in my understanding that our survival is not yet certain?”

  “You are, General. We still have to get past the dark ships. If the gate collapses as fast as possible, we won’t be in the shadow of Beta in time. If it collapses more slowly, we’ll get there.”

  “Then I will pray that the gate collapses with all due deliberation,” Charban said.

  SIXTEEN

  DESJANI’S planned maneuvers accomplished what they were supposed to. The dark ships were just over a light-hour and a half distant when the major change in the Alliance fleet’s path was made at Geary’s order following the receipt of Rione’s last message, and as a result the dark ships did not see the maneuver until about an hour and a half after it was made. They then shifted their own vector, aiming to intercept on the assumption that Geary’s warships were returning to the government facility.

  A few minutes before the dark ships intercepted their track, Geary ordered the change in vector to head for the side of Star Beta that was opposite where the hypernet gate apparently still orbited nearly seven light-hours distant. By now, that image was a lie. The gate was already gone.

  The dark ships had anticipated vector changes by Geary to either continue on his way toward the government facility or to engage the enemy. The change toward the far side of Star Beta was unanticipated by the dark ships, with the result that their intercept was completely missed.

  The five dark ship formations, now operating as almost a single unit, swung wide and around, aiming to catch Geary’s fleet again.

  “Once we start braking, and we have to do that now, the dark ships are going to catch up to us fast,” Desjani cautioned.

  “They’re going to aim past us,” Geary predicted. “No matter what projected vector they have for us, they are not going to predict that we will slow so much that we drop into fixed orbit close to Beta. Doing that would be totally irrational for us and give no possible benefit, except under one set of conditions, which the dark ships do not think exists. They need observations to make their decisions, and they won’t see any sign of trouble until too late.”

  His ships pivoted again, every bow coming up and around, and as their main propulsion lit off again, the entire fleet began reducing velocity as fast as the most badly damaged ships could sustain.

  The dark ships, swooping down on Geary’s formation, began braking as well.

  “How are we doing on time?” Geary asked.

  “Right on our mark,” Desjani said. “We’re coming in perfectly.”

  The projected vectors of the dark ships bent forward as they braked, showing intercepts well past Beta. As Geary’s force continued to slow, the dark ships kept slowing, too, but also kept assuming that the Alliance warships would stop braking at any moment. The paths of the dark ships continued through space above and beyond Beta.

  “You know,” Desjani commented, “it does feel insane to be slowing down this much with those dark ships that close and trying to hit us again. My head says we have to do this, but my guts are telling me this is crazy.”

  “I feel the same way,” Geary said.

  Star Beta was looming larger and larger as the Alliance fleet slid closer and closer. Geary gave more commands, ordering the warships to collapse their current four formations into a single, tight formation that would be protected as well as possible from any shock waves spreading back around the star after they hit it.

  “Five more minutes until we’re there,” Desjani said. “If the gate collapsed extrafast, we’ll find out the hard way within the next couple of minutes.”

  “Make sure we drop some expendable surveillance sats before we get behind Beta, so we can see what’s happening,” Geary said.

  The dark ships had completely overshot Geary’s force and were skidding through a turn well beyond Star Beta, their bows coming back to point at the Alliance fleet. “Twenty minutes until the dark ships manage their latest intercept attempt,” Lieutenant Castries said.

  “You sound very calm, Lieutenant,” Desjani remarked, her chin resting on one fist, her entire attitude that of relaxed composure. “Well done.”

  Castries grinned. “I’ve been through a lot in the last several months, Captain.”

  “This is just one more near-death experience?”

  “That’s right, Captain.”

  “How about you, Lieutenant Yuon?” Desjani asked. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sort of numb, Captain,” Yuon admitted.

  “Numb works, as long as you keep thinking. Ah, here we are.”

  Dauntless slid into her intended fixed orbit about Beta, the star looming huge nearby and blocking off a vast section of space. All about Dauntless, the rest of the Alliance warships, more closely packed than usual, hung in a glittering array, illuminated by the light of Beta’s close-by nuclear fires. The Dancers had come in near as well, weaving through the fleet and parking themselves in the midst of the Alliance warships as if such difficult maneuvers were routine and easy.

  The dark ships had finished coming about, and were accelerating toward Geary’s fleet and the Dancers.

  “I sure as hell hope that gate collapsed,” Desjani muttered so low that only Geary could hear. “Otherwise, we’re going to get ripped from one end to the other.”

  Geary kept his eyes on his display, where the unmagnified view from the surveillance sats was visible. The bright disc of Star Alpha could be seen to one side, but the other objects in Unity Alternate were just bright dots among the innumerable stars. If the gate had collapsed as it was supposed to, many of those bright dots no longer existed. But the wave of destruction that had engulfed them was traveling with the light that would bring news of the devastation.

  “Ten minutes until dark ship intercept,” Lieutenant Castries said.

  “All units’ shields are at maximum,” Lieutenant Yuon reported.

  “We can see the gate collapsing,” Lieutenant Castries added.

  It had happened nearly seven hours ago, but it felt like something taking place right now.

  Geary saw one of the bright dots go out. “Here it comes.”

  More dots vanished.

  One of them had been the government facility.

  The view from the surveillance sats vanished, and Geary looked toward his main display.

  The shock wave hit Alpha, then, seconds later, Beta, the flaming atmosphere of the stars blossoming outward on all sides like a ball of fire hit on one side by a mighty gust of wind.

  Hundreds of dark ships were closing in on Geary’s fleet. Five formations of the most dangerous warships ever built by humanity. Precise, cold, terribly lethal.

  The shock wave was moving so fast and was so powerful that he did not actually see the impact. One moment, the dark ships were racing to attack. The next, they had been swept from space and only a vast glare could be seen. The glare faded, then vanished, leaving only empty space.

  Geary heard sounds aboard Dauntless; the mumbling of prayers, a few half-muffled cries of jubilation, something that sounded like a sob.

  Desj
ani had her head bowed, her lips moving silently.

  He looked toward where the government facility had orbited for decades. Thank you, Victoria. May the light of living stars welcome you and your husband.

  —

  THEY took a few days to make their way back out to the fringes of what had been Unity Alternate Star System, conserving fuel this time and limiting the stress on damaged ships. The emptiness of the star system, swept clear of all but the largest planets by the shock wave, felt unnatural. Sailors had to be reprimanded for violating uniform regulations by wearing good-luck charms and necklaces designed to ward off evil, but every day some other members of the crew wore similar objects despite the risk of being chewed out and having their protective objects confiscated by Master Chief Gioninni, Senior Chief Tarrani, and the other senior enlisted. “They’re spooked, Captain,” Gioninni explained to Desjani. She and Geary had encountered the master chief in one of Dauntless’s passageways.

  “They’ll have to live with it a little while longer,” Geary told him. “Some of the data from the government facility were automated astronomical observations that included where and when unstable jump points have appeared in this star system. We’ve used that data to help predict when the next jump point will appear. It should happen near this part of the star system, and sometime anywhere from now to within the next few weeks. That will let us jump for Drezwin.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Gioninni said. “The crew is also a bit worried about using an unstable jump point.”

  “Just remind them that it doesn’t matter how unstable the jump point here is as long as the one at Drezwin is stable! Which it is.” Desjani paused and eyed Gioninni. “By the way, Master Chief, it’s pretty surprising how many of those luck charms and evil-aversion necklaces are aboard this ship.”

  Gioninni scratched his head, adopting a puzzled look. “Things have been a bit rough the last few years, Captain. The crew must have collected quite a few.”

  “I found myself wondering,” Desjani continued, “if perhaps the charms and necklaces being confiscated are being resold to other crew members by someone.”

  “That would be highly improper!” Gioninni declared, scandalized. “I will look into that, Captain!”

  “See that you do, Master Chief,” Desjani said.

  As she and Geary walked away from Gioninni, Desjani smiled. “That little resale operation should stop within a few minutes,” she murmured to Geary. “As soon as Gioninni can tell his coconspirators to shut it down.”

  “Life goes on.” They stopped before the compartment where comms with the Dancers were maintained as Lieutenant Iger exited.

  Iger, startled, hastily saluted. “Admiral, Captain.”

  “Is there anything wrong?” Geary asked, looking toward the compartment.

  “No, sir. I’m just going to check on things in the intelligence spaces while Shamrock—Excuse me, while Lieutenant Jamenson holds the fort in there.”

  “And how are you and Lieutenant Shamrock getting along?” Geary asked.

  Iger smiled broadly. “Planning a honeymoon, sir. We didn’t think that would be a possibility. But it looks like this is a long-term thing after all.”

  “You seem happy about that,” Desjani commented. “When planning on where to honeymoon, I’d advise avoiding close binary star systems.”

  General Charban exited the compartment as well, giving Lieutenant Iger the opportunity to head for the intelligence compartments. Charban looked weary again but in a satisfied way, not a frustrated way. “I may yet become a songwriter,” he announced. “No one but the Dancers will want to listen to my songs, but that’s a fair-sized audience. They intend jumping home from here, Admiral.”

  Geary shook his head. “There are a hell of a lot of things in this universe that humanity has left to learn. I honestly can’t remember, General. Did I ever offer formal condolences to the Dancers for the ships they lost assisting us in the fight against the dark ships?”

  “You did,” Charban confirmed. “And the Dancers have offered formal condolences for our losses. They have also asked about what Victoria Rione did, wanting to know more about her reasons and motivations.”

  “What have you told them?” Geary asked.

  Charban pursed his mouth before answering. “Admiral, I told them that Victoria Rione was what humans call a Fury.”

  “A Fury?”

  “Mythical creatures,” Charban explained. “They avenge wrongdoing. They are absolutely merciless, never to be deflected from their purpose. Victoria Rione was a Fury, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes,” Geary agreed. “I think she was.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the whole Black Jack thing,” Charban continued. “A century ago, the Alliance needed not just a hero, but a military hero. Someone to inspire support for the war, someone to inspire everyone who fought.”

  “Black Jack fulfilled that need,” Desjani said.

  “I agree. But doesn’t a democracy also need other kinds of heroes? Doesn’t it need political leaders who are heroic?”

  “Heroic?” Desjani questioned. “Political leaders?”

  “I would think those were needed,” Geary said. “But from what I’ve seen, the people of the Alliance don’t have a very high opinion of politicians these days.”

  “No, they don’t,” Charban agreed. “The idea of a heroic politician has become so ridiculous that no one probably even thinks of it. Our politics has been about tearing down other politicians, about mocking any claims to heroism. Politicians claim as acts of courage actions that are only aimed at advancing their own ambitions or pet causes.”

  “That’s been noticed,” Desjani said dryly.

  “But I do think we need heroes among our political leaders. Real heroes, whose claims to that status might perhaps be embellished but who at their core deserve to be celebrated for doing more than anyone expected. Doing something that would not benefit them personally.”

  Charban looked at Geary. “Victoria Rione has given us such a figure. A heroic politician. A dead, heroic politician, and as the Black Jack example illustrated for nearly a century, the best heroes are always the dead ones because their subsequent actions can never disappoint. Would she be angry, Admiral, if she were held up as such a figure?”

  To his surprise, Geary felt himself smiling. “General, given Victoria Rione’s attitude toward those around her and those she worked with, I think she would be incredibly amused by the idea of being looked up to as a paragon of political leadership.”

  Desjani nodded. “She would be laughing her butt off.”

  “Then I am going to pursue that, Admiral, when we get back to the Alliance,” Charban declared. “The Alliance is not, cannot be, about whichever men and women currently lead it. It has to be about ideals epitomized by those who have gone before. About sacrifice by our leaders. Maybe that is why the Dancers intervened the way they did. Not just because of the cold minds of the dark ships. Our part of the pattern, the Alliance part, was rotting from within. But we can still fix it. I’m going to do what I can.”

  “You really are going into politics?” Desjani asked. “You know what that will do to your reputation.”

  “I’ll risk it. Maybe if enough good people do the same, we’ll be able to change the image of our leaders.”

  “Good luck,” Geary said.

  He walked with Desjani the rest of the way back to her stateroom. “Come in for a moment,” she offered.

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked. “We don’t want people talking.”

  “Keep the hatch open. Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “Feel free, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.” Desjani took a seat at her desk, sighing. “Speaking of patterns, and destiny, I had a thought. The enigmas covertly gave humanity hypernet technology not only to keep the war between the Alliance and the Syndicate worlds going, but a
lso in the hope that we would first build hypernet gates in all of our star systems, then discover what excellent weapons they made for destroying those star systems that belonged to our human foes. The enigmas wanted humanity to wipe itself out.”

  “Right,” Geary said, leaning against the side of the open hatch.

  “But the hypernet gate here was what allowed us to survive, the only thing powerful enough to annihilate the dark ships. The enigmas gave us that weapon in the hope that we would destroy ourselves with it, and instead, we used it to save ourselves.”

  “That’s ironic,” Geary said. “I hadn’t thought about it, but that’s true.”

  “But it wouldn’t have happened,” Desjani continued, “if the same people who created and funded and pushed the dark ship program, as well as other really stupid and ugly things, had not also targeted Victoria Rione and motivated her to act as she did.”

  He stared at her. “You said her name.”

  “So what? I honor her memory. The point is, the enigmas gave us the weapon, and the people who sought to undermine the Alliance gave us the person who would pull the trigger on it.”

  He kept staring. “Our enemies gave us the means to frustrate their plans.”

  “Do you still believe that there has been no larger plan involving you?” Desjani pressed. “A plan by powers compared to whom the enigmas and the suits are nothing?”

  “Tanya, I will never be able to believe that I am special,” Geary said.

  “And that’s why they chose you,” she concluded. “I know you are going to miss her. That’s all right. She was part of the plan, too.”

  “So were you,” he said.

  “I just helped keep you alive, Black Jack. Alive and with your head on straight.”

  He glanced over at the remembrance plaque that Tanya Desjani kept on one bulkhead. It held a list of names, a heartbreakingly long list of names, of comrades of hers who had died in battle. Two new names were on it. Victoria Rione. Captain Tulev. “Rione is not the only one I’m going to miss.”

  “No.” Desjani looked away, blinking rapidly. “It’s as I said when Kostya died when Leviathan was destroyed,” she whispered. “His war is finally over. He had nowhere else. His home world destroyed. All but one member of his extended family dead. The fleet was all he had. Someday, had he lived, he would have had to leave the fleet, then he would have had nothing. Now, he is at home with his ancestors, and I pray he knows peace.”