Kapelka’s jaw literally dropped, hanging there for several seconds until she managed to recover enough to snap it shut. “Immediately? You are ordering us to go home immediately?”
“As soon as possible,” Geary corrected. “Your ships need a lot of work. Ensure all of your ships have the necessary provisions and fuel for the trip home before you depart, but I don’t want any unnecessary delays.”
“Thank the living stars!” Commander Kapelka looked around, though not at those with Geary. She was plainly looking at the others at her own conference table. “You heard?” she told them. “Get the word to all ships. Now.”
“You will be receiving your formal orders within a few minutes,” Geary continued, as if this was all routine, and as if he hadn’t noticed Kapelka’s reaction. “Let me know if there are any difficulties.”
Ending that call, Geary looked back at Captain Hiyen’s image. “You’ll get the detailed orders within a few minutes as well. Notify your crew and the other Callas Republic ships.”
An unexpected reprieve had occurred, a pardon had appeared at the last minute, the rifles of the firing squad had jammed. Captain Hiyen smiled in wonderment as he saluted, then his image vanished.
“Not to throw a monkey wrench into the only solution we had, but are you certain this won’t make you look weak?” Desjani asked. “Everybody in the fleet knows how the ships from the republic and the federation felt. They might well guess that your hand was forced.”
He gave her an irritated look. “What else was I supposed to do?”
“Every other option was worse. A lot worse. But do we know this solution won’t still create some problems?”
Why was she—? Because she can read my attitude. I’m so relieved that we defused this situation that I’m not thinking about possible consequences. Trust Tanya to keep me grounded when I was ready to bask in the glory of disaster averted. “It might,” Geary conceded. “How do I handle that?”
“I’ll handle it,” Rione said, pretending not to notice Desjani’s reflexive frown. “All we have to do is start the right rumors on your Alliance warships. I have people in place who can do that.”
“Which rumors?” Geary asked, wishing he knew more about the agents that Rione had scattered through his fleet.
“Rumors that Black Jack is tired of the governments of the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation not pulling their share in supporting their own warships. You’ll remember I told you that funding for upkeep and repair would not be forthcoming in the expectation that the ships would wear out and eventually be useless.”
“In the hopes of that, you mean.”
Rione inclined her head in a small nod of agreement, her expression betraying no feeling. “But you, Admiral, are unhappy with this. You made the decision that you would force the issue when you returned to Alliance space.”
“No,” Desjani put in, her voice sharp. “Admiral Geary would be primarily motivated by the mistreatment of the crews of those ships who have been allowed very little time at home since the end of the war. The maintenance and funding issue would be secondary.”
“That’s true,” Geary agreed.
After a pause, Rione nodded. “That additional reason will only strengthen your position. You have made up your mind, you have the authority, and the decision is now being implemented by you, without anyone else having a say in the matter. It’s just what would be expected of Black Jack, isn’t it?”
“I hope so. That legend makes Black Jack a better officer than I’ll ever be.”
Desjani broke off her work on the orders to glare at him. “You are better than that legend.”
“Your Captain is right,” Rione said, then faced Desjani squarely. “You found the solution. I am deeply in your debt again.”
“That’s . . . all right,” Desjani mumbled, unsure how to respond.
“Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t start acting like we’re sisters.”
“Good. I couldn’t handle that.” Desjani grimaced. “Thank you for the assistance you have given the Admiral.”
Rione looked back at Geary. “I’ll go do my part.”
She left, and both Geary and Desjani bent back to frantically crafting the necessary orders. Fortunately, those orders could be fairly simple and fairly short, with the bulk of them made up of standard phrasing. “I think that’s good,” Geary said. “Let’s read them over slowly one more time.” He did, spotting a misplaced word and correcting that, then looked to Tanya. She nodded, and Geary hit the transmit command.
“Four and a half minutes,” Desjani said with satisfaction. “Even with the interruption.”
“The interruption? When Rione thanked you?”
“Whatever.”
Geary slumped back and rubbed his eyes with the palms of both hands. He had a feeling Rione would be similarly dismissive if he brought the matter up with her. “That was close. From the way Kapelka was acting, her crew was about to give her an ultimatum.”
“Yup.” Desjani leaned back as well, smiling. “And Hiyen was expecting you to shoot the messenger.”
“I’ve seen that done, Tanya. Too many times. Compared to now, they were about pretty minor issues, I guess. Problems being covered up with equipment on a single light cruiser, a destroyer commander whose own officers were reporting him as dangerously incompetent, that sort of thing. Sometimes the messenger is really exaggerating or even making things up, but all the more reason to find out if what you’ve been told is true or not.”
“Are you expecting an argument from me?” She stood up. “The usual response nowadays is to classify everything so everyone can pretend nothing actually happened. Good luck keeping this incident quiet if all of those ships had mutinied within Alliance space, though.”
Geary stared at her, the mention of mutiny calling to mind past events. “When Captain Numos participated in the mutiny led by Captain Falco, that was outside Alliance space. Not too many people know about that, or exactly what led to the loss of ships like Triumph, Polaris, and Vanguard. Do you think that’s why Numos hasn’t been court-martialed yet?”
She paused. “Yes, now that you mention it. Too many details of what happened would make high-ranking people look bad. With Falco dead, Numos stands to take full blame for the mutiny, so he wouldn’t hesitate to make as big a public stink as possible. And now that Admiral Bloch is back, he sure as hell wouldn’t want word getting out about what a mess he got the fleet into.”
That news had come in, too. Admiral Bloch, released as a goodwill gesture by the Syndics along with a hundred other Alliance prisoners. But just where Bloch was at the moment and what he was doing remained a mystery that not even Rione’s sources had been able to penetrate. “If they weren’t going to arrest Bloch,” Geary said, “they should at least have retired him.”
“There you go, expecting the government to do the rational thing.” Desjani paused, then spoke light words with a spine of steel running through them. “Oh, that reminds me. When we were having that discussion about averting the mutiny, I could have sworn that you spoke to me in a tone of voice more appropriate to a chief chewing out a deckhand who had made a dumb mistake.”
“I . . . would not . . .” Geary fumbled.
“And I seem to recall that you spoke to me that way while that woman was in here listening.”
Ancestors, please save me.
Her eyes were locked on him. “Well?”
“I . . .”
An urgent alert sounded. Geary lunged for the comm panel as if it were the last source of air in a spacecraft losing atmosphere.
“Admiral, a delegation from the grand council of the Alliance has arrived at Varandal and wants to meet with you on Ambaru station as soon as possible.”
“All right. Thank you.” The call ended and he stood up. “There’s an important—”
“I’d like an answer, Admiral,” Desjani said, her tone polite but unyielding.
He pressed his lips tightly together, then nodded. “My behavior toward you was
disrespectful and unprofessional. I apologize for that.”
She nodded in return. “Yes. Disrespectful. If you want to chew me out, do it in private. In public, treat me with the respect I have earned and deserve. You already know you should do that with me and with every other subordinate of yours.”
“Yes, I do,” Geary said. “I shouldn’t have to be reminded of it.”
“Then we understand each other.” Desjani jerked her head toward the hatch.
He reached for it, then paused and looked at her. “You’re letting me off rather easy.”
“Oh? You think so? We’ve only addressed your actions in terms of our professional relationship, Admiral. The next time we’re alone together, off my ship and in a private status, we’ll discuss your actions in terms of our personal relationship.”
Maybe I shouldn’t look forward to being alone with Tanya off Dauntless.
Oh, hell. You screwed up. Face it like a man. “After you, Captain. We’ve got work to do.”
“Sure do,” she agreed, as they left the room. “Are you going to tell the grand council’s representatives that a bunch of this fleet’s warships are going to be heading real soon for the hypernet gate and their homes?”
Geary thought about that, then shook his head. “They might try to stop it if they know it’s going to happen. Let’s save it for a surprise.”
Once more, the Grand Council had sent a delegation to see him instead of the grand council’s summoning him to go to them at Unity. Was that good or bad?
THIRTEEN
“A couple of other people needed a ride to Ambaru, so I arranged for them to be on this one,” Desjani remarked, as they waited to board the shuttle that was coming to dock aboard Dauntless.
“I wish you had asked me about that first,” Geary grumbled. “I am not looking forward to this meeting. I don’t even know which senators will be here as representatives of the grand council.”
“It scarcely matters,” Rione said as she walked up to them. “Some will trust you, some will mistrust you, and all will be scheming and plotting. Do you mind if I tag along? I received a rather urgent invitation.”
Whatever Desjani was about to reply went unsaid as a medical team entered the dock with a stretcher on which Commander Benan lay. Rione’s husband was unconscious, but the readouts on the stretcher indicated he was physically healthy aside from the sedation keeping him insensible.
“An invitation for me to be at the grand council meeting,” Rione continued, and an . . . invitation for my husband to proceed for emergency, specialized medical treatment.” Only the uncharacteristic catch in her voice when she spoke of Commander Benan betrayed Rione’s emotions.
“It’s what we demanded?” Geary asked.
“It is,” Rione confirmed. “That ill will be removed.” Neither of them would openly refer to the mental block that the Alliance itself had placed on Benan to ensure the secrecy of a forbidden research program. “That won’t cure the damage that was done, but it will allow the damage to finally be effectively treated.”
One of the corpsmen with the stretcher spoke apologetically. “Ma’am, we’re going to have to go straight from the dock at Ambaru to another dock for the shuttle down to the surface. If you want to say anything to him before you’re separated for a while, we can rouse him enough.”
“I . . .” Rione glanced at Geary and Desjani. “Yes. I don’t want to risk him awakening at the treatment facility and not knowing.”
The corpsman worked for several seconds, then both medical personnel stepped away to give her and Benan some privacy. Geary and Desjani started to do the same, but Rione forestalled them.
“Paol,” she whispered, kneeling beside the stretcher.
Benan’s eyes opened, looking about with a puzzled expression. “Vic?”
“You’re on your way to get the block removed. I’ll join you there, after I take care of something else. You’ll be all right.”
Benan smiled at her with a gentleness surprising to those who had seen the rages the mental block had created in him. “Not totally useless yet, huh?” he said in a low, hoarse voice. “Not yet. Shot to hell and barely operational, but you think I’m still worth fixing.” He blinked. “You’ll be there?”
“As soon as possible,” Rione promised.
Commander Benan twitched, and a low tone sounded from the stretcher’s monitor. The corpsmen hurried back. “His brain’s ramping up, ma’am. We’ve got to get him quiet, or he’ll lose it.”
Within another couple of seconds after the corpsman adjusted a setting, Benan had closed his eyes, out cold again.
The shuttle had landed and extended its ramp. Geary indicated Rione and the corpsmen with the stretcher. “You go on board first.”
Desjani stood gazing at them as they headed for the shuttle, her expression tight with anger. “No one should be used that way.”
“The block, you mean?”
“Yeah. To one of our own. What do you want to bet that the rules prevented whoever ordered that block put on him from doing to Syndic prisoners what they did to a fleet officer?”
“I won’t take that bet.”
“Sometimes I feel sorry for that woman,” Desjani admitted of Rione. “Sometimes she seems almost human.”
“Sometimes she is,” Geary said. “But don’t let her know you spotted that.”
He and Desjani walked up to the shuttle ramp and inside, joining those already there. Geary’s misgivings at having other company evaporated as he saw Dr. Shwartz and Admiral Lagemann. “You’re both leaving?” Geary asked as he sat down and strapped in.
Lagemann smiled lopsidedly. “I have been relieved of command. The good ship Invincible has been officially reclassified as an artifact.”
“I thought the government techs were going to take over Invincible a week ago.”
“They were.” Lagemann winked. “We suggested they might want to take a little time to get accustomed to Invincible, but they brushed aside our superstitious concerns, came charging on board to take custody and eject us, then went charging back into their shuttles much faster than they had come aboard. After a week spent working out how they would deal with the Kick ghosts, the techs finally took full custody late yesterday. The last fleet sailors, Marines, and I left this morning.”
“Maybe the techs will figure out what the ghosts are.”
Lagemann looked into the distance. “Would you think it odd if I wanted the ghosts to remain a mystery? To maybe fade away and disappear, their cause and their nature remaining unknown?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Desjani tossed in, “if that’s exactly what happens.”
“Are you going home?” Geary asked Lagemann.
“Yes. For a brief visit with those who thought me dead. Then I have to report for extensive debriefing on everything I learned about Invincible while serving as her commanding officer.”
“That should be fun,” Geary remarked. “What about you, Doctor?”
Shwartz gazed longingly around her. “I will miss being here, Admiral. Here with your ships. No luxuries at all, and food worse than even universities provide in their cafeterias, but I finally had the opportunity to really work in my field! And I enjoyed working with you, against all expectations about rigid military minds and institutions. Now we must go our separate ways and fight our separate battles.”
“You have battles?”
“Vicious and ugly battles,” she confirmed. “Battles for academic primacy, battles for credit for discoveries, findings, and interpretations, battles for positions on boards and study groups. There will be ambushes to strike the unwary, no end of verbal and written atrocities inflicted on the combatants and innocent bystanders, and horrible barrages of rhetoric exchanged in unending debate until some bloodied figures manage to surmount the smoking wreckage of truth and declare themselves authorities over the scholarly rubble that remains.”
Geary smiled. “You make it sound worse than actual warfare.”
“Having seen both acad
emic and real warfare, Admiral, I find the relative honesty of the real thing something of a relief.” Shwartz gestured vaguely. “The fight for access to that Kick superbattleship has just begun, and the amount of academic bloodletting over that alone will probably exceed what your Marines encountered. I only hope the entire ship is not declared classified and off-limits to scientific inquiry.”
“The military and the government wouldn’t do something that stupid—”
Lagemann intervened. “Sad to say, I think the techs may have intended doing that until they got aboard and realized the enormity of what was inside that ship. Before I left, the most common comment among the techs was we’re going to need a lot of help.”
“Good,” Desjani said. “Personally, I think the limits of enigma space were a lot easier to find than the limits of official stupidity would be.”
“You know,” Professor Shwartz said with a wicked smile, “you might want anyone working against you to get their hooks into that Kick warship. The superbattleship looks so terribly powerful. And yet it is helpless, a burden to whoever has it.”
“Yes,” Geary agreed, remembering the long and difficult journey to get Invincible back here in one piece. “Having the ship with us was a real headache.”
“A white elephant.” Her smiled broadened. “I’m going to be an academic and lecture you, Admiral. Do you know where the term ‘white elephant’ originated? Back on Old Earth. It literally referred to an elephant who was white. In one particular civilization in ancient times, an elephant who was naturally white was regarded as sacred. Such an animal required no end of caring for and rituals and special treatment. It was ruinously expensive. Because of that, when a white elephant was born, the rulers of that land would bestow it as a gift upon their richest, most powerful enemy, who would be forced by law and custom to drain their fortune on the upkeep of the animal. No one could refuse such a gift, and no one could afford to keep it. Do you have any powerful enemies who could benefit from the gift of your white elephant, Admiral?” Shwartz finished in teasing tone. “You might try to lure them into seeking that prize.”
The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian Page 30