Boundless

by Jack Campbell

  “Find out anything more about the bug?” Desjani asked.

  “No. Except that Colonel Webb seems far less likely a suspect. Even General Carabali agreed with that, though she’s still suspicious of him and his unit.”

  “Some special forces types are real loose cannons,” she said. “They make regular forces wary of them all. Marines, now, you have to always worry about what they’re going to do if you don’t keep your eye on them. But I understand the average soldier doesn’t need to be watched as closely.”

  “I’ve heard differently,” Geary said.

  “I wonder if they can get into as much trouble as sailors?” Desjani wondered.

  “That would be a challenge.”

  “Approaching jump point,” Lieutenant Yuon said. “One minute to jump.”

  The last minute counted down, Geary feeling more relaxed after talking to Desjani. “All units, this is Admiral Geary. Jump now.”

  The universe vanished, replaced by the endless, formless gray of jump space.

  Geary began to stand up, determined to try to get some rest after long days waiting for the worst to happen. But he halted in mid-motion as the ship’s displays lit with sudden bursts of light. He watched them flare and die, feeling a shiver run down his back at the sight. Seeing occasional mysterious lights appear in jump space had become common, but seeing three of them so quickly wasn’t.

  “Three of them,” Lieutenant Castries said, her voice awed. “One right after another.”

  Desjani gazed at her display, where the mysterious lights had quickly faded and vanished, leaving no trace they’d ever existed, and no clue as to what had created them. All anyone knew was that initial human trips through jump space had seen none of the strange lights, but they’d been seen more and more often over the centuries as more and more human ships traversed jump. “Do you think the Dancers know what the lights are?”

  “General Charban has asked about that. The Dancers haven’t replied,” Geary said, aware that everyone on the bridge was being careful not to look at him. He knew people linked his presence to odd behaviors by the baffling lights of jump space, and even though he discounted the idea he had no way to disprove it.

  “It’s a good omen,” Desjani said.

  “I hope so,” Geary replied.

  THIRTEEN

  IF Atalia had been uncomfortable because of the amount of devastation there, Kalixa was a nightmare that familiarity made no easier to experience.

  A hypernet gate had collapsed at Kalixa, a gate without the safe-collapse system installed, creating a nova-level pulse of energy that had torn through the star system, devastating the inhabited world that had once orbited the star, and leaving the star itself unstable.

  “There’s only one Syndic warship here,” Desjani said, gazing at her display. “A single Hunter-Killer near the jump point for Indras. In a few hours when he sees that we’ve arrived he’ll probably jump to give Indras warning that we’re coming.”

  “Odd that we didn’t catch any other Syndic warships here,” Geary said, “given that they’ve been popping out at Atalia often enough to intimidate the people there.”

  “They know we’re coming,” she said. “Thanks to our former friends in the Rift Federation. That HuK on picket duty is to let them know exactly when we’ll get there.”

  “Which means they will have something waiting for us,” he said. “Not a straight-up fight, if our intelligence assessments of Syndic fleet strength are anywhere near accurate. But something designed to hinder or hurt us.”

  “Which they will end up regretting,” Desjani said.

  He didn’t reply, wondering if the ambassador would call with that order while they were at Kalixa.

  Ambassador Rycerz finally called Geary a few hours after they’d arrived at Kalixa. He braced himself for the worst, but she said nothing about rules of engagement with Syndic threats. “The enigmas did this?” she asked, looking ill.

  “We’re pretty sure they did, yes,” Geary said. “They wanted the Alliance and the Syndicate Worlds to start deliberately collapsing each other’s hypernet gates, wiping out the human presence in every star system with a gate. We think the enigmas are the ones who leaked hypernet technology to both the Alliance and the Syndicate Worlds at about the same time, both to keep the war among humanity going and to trick us into building unimaginably huge mines in as many star systems as possible.”

  “Why didn’t it work?”

  “It almost did. After what happened here at Kalixa, which the Syndics blamed on us, we narrowly stopped a Syndic retaliatory attempt to collapse the gate at Varandal. If they’d succeeded in that, there would’ve been pressure for the Alliance to respond in kind. Fortunately, Captain Cresida had already developed safe-collapse software for the gates, so we got that distributed as quickly as possible.”

  “To Alliance hypernet gates, and Syndicate Worlds hypernet gates,” the ambassador said, gazing at him. “I’m aware that the safe-collapse software was ‘accidentally’ leaked to the Syndics,” she added, giving an extra twist to the word “accidentally.”

  “Ummm . . . yes,” Geary said, not wanting to contradict the official version of how the Syndics had gotten their hands on the software. Only Victoria Rione and he had known the truth, and she could no longer reveal her role in that event. But there’d been plenty of suspicion over how that particular “accident” had happened. “That did ensure the gates couldn’t be used as weapons by either side.”

  “I’d heard of this, but seeing it in person is . . . horrible.” She looked at him with a steady gaze. “We’re fortunate that things happened the way they did. That people made the decisions they did. I understand Captain Cresida was the sister of Dr. Cresida aboard Boundless?”

  “That’s correct,” he said.

  “I’ll have to pass on to Dr. Cresida my appreciation for her sister’s work. Thank you, Admiral.”

  He spent a few minutes looking at his display after the call ended. It looked as if the ambassador had chosen to let the matter of who would decide when to fire continue to rest with him. It was very strange to think that the devastation here at Kalixa might have contributed to that decision.

  The Syndic HuK did indeed jump within a few minutes of when it would’ve seen the light showing the arrival of the Alliance fleet. After that, the Alliance ships were alone in the star system as they transited to the jump point for Indras, something that only served to emphasize the way death had laid its hand here. Lines of sailors formed outside the small worship rooms located deep inside the ship as men and women sought comfort by communing with their ancestors, and every display that didn’t have to show space outside the ships was set for images of other places.

  Geary held a meeting of all the fleet’s captains, the sort of thing he’d dreaded since assuming command when the fleet was on the verge of being annihilated. But the meetings had grown less contentious, and he wanted to ensure everyone understood what to do.

  The conference room appeared to be huge thanks to the virtual meeting software, the table stretching far enough to accommodate every captain in the fleet from those commanding immense battleships to those in much smaller destroyers. Captain Matson of the Boundless sat among them. If Geary focused on any one of the captains, their image would appear close, and when anyone spoke, their words came as clearly as if they were sitting next to you. As software went, it was remarkably seamless and easy to employ.

  General Carabali and her senior colonels were there as well.

  So was Ambassador Rycerz, who had opted for an observer seat, away from the table but able to watch and hear all that was being discussed.

  “We don’t know exactly what the Syndics will have waiting at Indras,” Geary began, “but we do know they’ll lie to us and try to trick us. An open assault is unlikely since they don’t have the numbers of ships to give them any chance against us, but they may try some
deniable attacks on us. I want everyone to understand that firing in self-defense is only authorized if there is no alternative. If you can dodge an attack, do so. The exceptions to that are the auxiliaries and Boundless. If something aims at them, it will not be allowed to get past the battleship screen. If something tries to maneuver to avoid the battleships, the battle cruisers will move to block it.” Even a small, fast courier ship couldn’t outmaneuver a battle cruiser.

  “Our job is to get through Indras, to the hypernet gate there,” Geary continued, “without suffering any damage or losing any people, and without engaging in any combat that isn’t absolutely necessary. We don’t want to fall for any Syndic trick or trap that’s waiting for us, and we don’t want to give them any cause to believe or to claim that we intend attacking them.”

  “They’re going to try something,” Captain Badaya said, resting his chin on one hand. “They know we’re coming thanks to that picket ship. How do we keep from losing another battleship if we can’t fire until the last moment?”

  Captain Armus smiled. “We have an idea. With your permission, Admiral. The battleships carry large bombardment munitions. If something is on a collision course with us, and we fire such a weapon at it, the impact will turn the attacker to dust, leaving no wreckage continuing down the original vector to endanger our ships. But if the attacker dodges at the last moment to avoid the munition, it will pass close by us, and can be totally destroyed using our normal anti-ship weapons.”

  “We’ve gamed it,” Captain Jane Geary said. “It’s the perfect counter to an attempt to ram by anything up to a heavy cruiser in size. Even a civilian freighter loaded with rocks would be blown into tiny fragments on different vectors. And it allows us to let the attacker get closer before we fire, so there won’t be any doubt we acted in self-defense.”

  “We’re talking about using a BFR against an attempted ramming?” General Carabali asked, using Marine slang for the large bombardment projectiles. “What if they’re coming after one of the assault transports? Can one of those launched by a battleship stop the attack?”

  Jane Geary nodded. “It’s simple physics. Whichever battleship has the best firing angle can launch to intercept anything approaching another ship.”

  Commander Young of the Mistral spoke up. “What if they dodge off the track for their initial target and aim for another of our ships?”

  “We time the shot,” Captain Armus said, “so the attacker will maybe have just enough time to dodge the incoming bombardment round. But, velocity and momentum will not allow enough time for a large enough vector change to aim for another target.”

  “The same for the auxiliaries?” Captain Smythe asked. “You can cover all of them?”

  “In this formation,” Armus said, “easily.”

  Captain Matson of the Boundless looked around the apparently vast conference table. “These bombardment projectiles. They’re what I’ve heard called rocks?”

  “That’s right,” Captain Jane Geary said. “No warhead of any kind, just a solid chunk of matter that depends on kinetic energy to destroy whatever it hits. The large ones are heavy enough to take out the entire center of a city.” She paused, casting a quick glance at her granduncle. Everyone in the fleet knew how Black Jack had reacted when he learned that the Alliance fleet had adopted the tactic of indiscriminate bombing of cities in another futile attempt to win the war. “We . . . don’t have much use for them now, but the battleships still carry them.”

  “What about smaller bombardment projectiles?” Captain Desjani asked, as if there hadn’t been any moment of awkwardness. “The sizes the battle cruisers carry?”

  “It depends on the mass of the attacker,” Captain Armus said. “For most of them, a medium bombardment projectile will do the job. They either dodge, or they die. And if they dodge, they die another way.”

  “I like this option,” Captain Duellos said. He seemed once again his usual self, aside from a slight haunted look at the back of his eyes that only someone who knew him well could spot. “It lets us refrain from firing until there is no doubt of the attacker’s intent, but ensures our ships will be successfully defended.”

  “That’s to be our primary option if any ships approach with apparent attempt to ram,” Geary said. “Battleships will take the lead on engaging with bombardment munitions, unless something comes in from a vector where they’re best engaged by battle cruisers or heavy cruisers. Good job coming up with this option.”

  “Captain Geary suggested it first,” Captain Armus said, nodding toward Jane. “You know those Gearys. Always coming up with ideas.” He smiled at his own joke.

  But it wasn’t a bad joke, Geary thought, unable to resist a smile himself. “Sometimes the ideas are good ones,” he said. “Sometimes. Are there any questions? I don’t want anyone to have any doubts about when they’re allowed to shoot, and when they should not. The Syndics want us to look like the aggressors. We won’t give them that.”

  The conference ended, the ship captains all came to attention and then began vanishing as the virtual presences left the compartment. The seemingly immense table shrank along with the dwindling number of attendees, until only Geary and Desjani were left.

  He turned to look back to the virtual observer’s seat where Ambassador Rycerz had been watching the meeting. But she, too, had left, leaving him wondering whether she’d been reassured that he wasn’t out to start a fight.

  “I’m worried about Roberto Duellos,” Desjani said. “Did you see him?”

  “He’s better,” Geary said.

  “He looks better, if you don’t look too close. I’ve invited him to a virtual dinner, captain to captain, but he says he’s too busy.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Duellos,” Geary said, even more worried for his friend.

  “However,” Tanya said, “if the admiral invited him to a dinner, along with his daughter on Warspite, Captain Duellos could not refuse the invitation.”

  “What about the captain of Dauntless?” he asked. “Could she attend as well, seeing as this dinner will be aboard her ship?”

  She paused to think. “Yes. That’d be expected, really. Anything else might seem like a snub.”

  “It’ll have to be dinner today,” Geary said. “We’ll be jumping for Indras early tomorrow. I’ll get the invitation sent.”

  Which is how he found himself, a couple of hours later, seated in his stateroom, where he rarely ate, preferring to share meals with the officers and crew. But getting a meal delivered to his stateroom had been easy. He and Desjani were there in person, of course, seated on two sides of a small table. Occupying the other two sides were the virtual presences of Captain Duellos and his daughter Ensign Duellos. Geary hadn’t thought about the menu, but the cooks had, arranging with their counterparts aboard Inspire and Warspite to ensure everyone had the exact same meal.

  Captain Duellos hadn’t been exactly thrilled at the invitation, but he had accepted readily enough. His daughter Arwen, in a uniform that still looked painfully new, sat rigidly, unsuccessfully attempting not to look nervous at dining with the admiral.

  Geary almost asked how things were back on Catan, fortunately realizing how tone deaf that would be before he could speak.

  “How’s life on Warspite?” Desjani asked Arwen.

  “It’s very demanding and very rewarding, Captain,” Ensign Duellos answered.

  That rote response got a smile out of her father. “Quite the professional, isn’t she?”

  “She didn’t get that from you,” Desjani said.

  “I’ll have you know I can be extremely professional when I want to,” Captain Duellos said.

  “What’s training like these days?” Geary asked Ensign Duellos, thinking that would be a neutral topic.

  “They’ve revamped some things, Admiral,” she said. “We spent a lot of time studying Bla—I mean, studying your victories.”


  That was sort of good, as long as they were studying the tactics. “My victories?” He smiled and shook his head. “I couldn’t have accomplished anything without the skills, dedication, and courage of the officers and sailors of the fleet. Officers like Captain Duellos here. He’s one of the finest officers I’ve ever served with. I’m afraid living up to his example will be a very difficult task for you.”

  Ensign Duellos’s professional facade cracked as she turned a loving gaze on her father. “I’m going to do my best, Admiral.”

  “You’re a lucky man, aren’t you?” Desjani murmured to Captain Duellos.

  He nodded, smiling. “I suppose I am.” The smile slipped. “I wasn’t there enough for her when she was growing up. I was out here.”

  “You were always with me,” his daughter said in a rush. “Every day. I saved every message you sent. I knew why you were gone, what you were doing, and why, and how hard it was. That’s why I want to—” She stopped speaking, looking embarrassed.

  “That’s about the best performance appraisal I’ve ever heard,” Geary said, raising his glass of water in a toast.

  Captain Duellos smiled again, joining in the toast to himself.

  Afterwards, Geary reflected on the odd fact that the meal formed a bright spot in his memories even though it had taken place at Kalixa.

  * * *

  DESPITE the worries about what might await at Indras, everyone felt relieved when they jumped from Kalixa the next morning. It wasn’t morning by any planetary standard of course. Ships kept their own time, all of them supposedly linked to the same “universal” source that had originated at Old Earth. Supposedly, if a ship from the farthest reaches of human expansion into the galaxy visited Old Earth, the time aboard that ship would still match that along the prime meridian on the ancestral planet. The one time Geary had actually visited that part of Old Earth he’d completely forgotten to check that, though.