Incansable (84 page)

Twenty-four hours had made a big difference. Two hours ago the retreating Syndics had jumped out of Varandal, still running as if the demon from inside a black hole was pursuing them. While the Syndics still fled, in the wake of Geary’s message for assistance, spacecraft of all types had swarmed out from Varandal’s worlds, colonies, and orbital facilities hauling whatever fuel cells they could carry. Now none of his ships were in danger of running out of fuel cells, and those that had run out were powered up again. The most badly damaged warships were already reaching the extensive space docks and repair facilities Varandal boasted.

He felt a heaviness inside thinking about the warships and sailors who had died on the very threshold of home.
Furious
hadn’t been the only loss, though it had struck him most deeply. The heavy cruisers
Kaidate
and
Quillion
had sustained too much damage to be saved, the light cruisers
Estocade
,
Disarm
, and
Cavalier
had been blown apart during the battle cruisers’ firing passes against the Syndics, and the destroyers
Serpentine
,
Basilisk
,
Bowie
,
Guidon
, and
Sten
had either been shattered or exploded during the engagement. Those had just been the ships attached to the fleet, not counting those that had died in the earlier defensive battles at Varandal and alongside
Dreadnaught
. And it didn’t include the sailors killed or wounded on ships that had “only” been damaged during the battle. Numerous other warships would only be saved because they had been so badly hurt in friendly space.

But the fleet was home. Not exactly safe, and too many ships, men, and women had been lost along the way, but it was home.

There’d been a time when he’d imagined this moment and seen himself gratefully relinquishing command of the fleet. Exactly what he would have done then had always been vague. Aside from a wistful desire to see the planet Kosatka again, Geary hadn’t had any idea where he might find any peace or refuge from the legend of Black Jack.

That had changed. He’d seen where duty led, where honor required him to go, and he’d sworn an oath to someone who mattered a great deal to him. He could still try to walk away from it, try to leave behind his concepts of honor and duty, cast aside his promise. But if he did, the killing would surely go on, the war would continue as it had for decade upon decade, and he would lose the one thing, the one person, whose presence made this hard and violent future a place where he nonetheless wanted to be.

Looked at that way, the decision wasn’t all that hard. Perhaps he was being delusional, suffering from the Geary Syndrome doctors had defined in decades past, believing only he could save the Alliance. But people he trusted told him he was the only one with a chance to end the war. He believed them in everything else. He had no choice but to believe them in this.

So he looked on the fleet and wondered if he could retain command of it and convince his superiors of what needed to be done.

“It was worse than I feared,” Rione was saying. “My contacts here say that in the last few months, as the Syndics broadcast claims that they’d destroyed the fleet and word leaked out that the fleet actually was presumed lost in enemy territory, civil disobedience and demonstrations erupted in a great many star systems. The people of the Alliance are losing hope.” She paused. “They
were
losing hope. If Varandal is any measure, your return with the fleet is generating tremendous optimism.”

“Great.” He remembered some of the public newscasts he’d seen relayed from the cities on Varandal’s inhabited worlds, happy faces declaring the latest information they’d been able to acquire.
Officially, the military and the government refuse to confirm anything, but our contacts within the fleet have assured us that the rumors are true! Black Jack has returned just as legend foretold! He saved the fleet! He saved Varandal! Can he save the Alliance as well? After his miraculous return, anything seems possible for the hero of the Alliance!

Followed by images of tense official spokespersons.
The government has nothing to add at this time.

What about the messages Captain Geary transmitted during the fight with the Syndics at Varandal?

The government has no comment at this time.

What about the statements from Syndic prisoners from the flotilla that attacked Varandal that Black Jack Geary led the fleet through the heart of the Syndicate Worlds and almost totally destroyed their naval forces?

The government will provide more information when it is available.

The broadcast from the fleet about the threat posed by hypernet gates has caused considerable concern. Can you confirm that the safe-fail system described in it has been installed at Varandal?

The hypernet gate at Varandal is safe. For security reasons we cannot provide any further details.

Observations of the hypernet gate here do reveal that some new equipment has been very recently installed. Can you comment on that?

No. The hypernet gate is safe.

“Why doesn’t the government just admit what everybody knows?” Geary asked. “This way they just look stupid.”

“Governments often end up looking stupid when they try to control information. I hope you’re not expecting me to defend their approach this time. Given the number of ships that have left Varandal by jump and hypernet since your arrival, the news must be spreading at a phenomenal rate. And it is good news,” Rione insisted. “The Alliance needs hope, and you embody that hope. Don’t bother looking annoyed. You know it’s true, no matter how irrational you think it is. By definition, hope usually is irrational.”

“I guess I can’t complain about that, considering what I intend proposing to the government,” Geary admitted. “I’m not sure it qualifies as rational.”

“Are you still planning on asking for permission to lead the fleet back to the Syndic home star system?”

“Yes, when I get somebody to talk to me.” Geary turned to look at her. “Any idea how long that will be?”

“It’s hard to say.” Rione appeared thoughtful. “It’s possible the grand council itself will come here to speak with you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not.” She exhaled in exasperation. “You’re more powerful than they are. You have to realize that and yet not act as if it is true. They need to see you, hear you in person, decide if you’re a threat to the Alliance or its deliverance. If the grand council comes here, you and I can convince them that you’re not that threat and get approval for the attack on the Syndics. Even I can see that your plan isn’t irrational. I thought Bloch’s plan was unlikely to succeed, but after all of the damage inflicted on the Syndics, if you can get approval within a short time to strike at the heads of the Syndicate Worlds, there’s a chance we might decapitate the beast. But it has to be soon, and it has to be a swift victory. If it’s drawn out long enough for the Syndics to rebuild their own force of warships, I foresee renewed stalemate until both governments collapse.”

Geary nodded. “That’s a real possibility. How do you think they’ll take the news of the aliens?”

“Poorly. But we have strong evidence. They’ll understand that we need to deal with the aliens as well as the Syndics, and as soon as possible. We have no idea what other attractive traps the aliens could come up with.”

“The aliens have to know that another Kalixa will cost them dearly, and I wouldn’t mind making them pay for Kalixa. I’ll do my best to convince our leaders, then win that victory over the Syndics so we can go have a firm talk backed up by substantial firepower with the aliens.”

“If recent history is any measure, your best may well suffice.” Rione turned to leave, but as she opened the hatch Desjani was just arriving. The two women passed with impassive glances and no words.

“Captain Geary.” Desjani walked to his comm panel and activated it. “You’ll recall those garbled messages I didn’t want you to be bothered with. One came through clearly a short time ago.” She punched receive, and Geary saw an admiral with an outwardly placid expression but nervous eyes gazing out.

“This is Admiral Timbale with a personal communication for Captain John Geary. Everyone in Varandal and the Alliance is naturally overjoyed at your return with the fleet. Overjoyed and . . . uh . . . astounded.” The admiral hastily looked slightly to one side.

“He got off script,” Desjani murmured.

Geary gave her a sardonic look. “Just how did you happen to see a message marked personal for me?”

“I’m the captain of this ship,” she reminded him. “That doesn’t make me a god within the confines of
Dauntless
, but it’s damned close to that. You’d better listen to the admiral.”

“You are to remain in command of the fleet until further notice,” Admiral Timbale continued. “Those warships in Varandal not previously assigned to the fleet are hereby officially transferred to your control.” The admiral flashed an anxious smile. “You have full authority and top priority for arranging resupply and repair of your . . . of the fleet’s ships.”

The admiral hesitated again for a moment. “In light of your many responsibilities at the moment and the continuing imminent attack alert within Varandal, the normal courtesy call on your superior officer is waived. I’ll let you know when we can arrange a meeting. Until then, I hope Varandal can provide everything the fleet needs. Timbale, out.”

Geary frowned at the comm panel. “He doesn’t want to meet with me?”

“He’s probably afraid to,” Desjani remarked. “If he does, he might be accused of plotting with you to overthrow the government. Or he’s afraid you might ask his help in that. Or demand it. Or he might offer his support for a coup and find out that Black Jack’s loyalty to the Alliance wasn’t overstated at all. Avoiding meeting with you and avoiding talking to you is far safer for him.”

“Hell. After all the times I didn’t want to deal with admirals and had to, now when I need to talk to one, he won’t talk to me. Is Timbale the senior admiral at Varandal?”

“He’s the only admiral left at Varandal,” Desjani explained. “As you’ll recall, the battles at Atalia and here before we arrived were pretty hard on the admirals commanding the Alliance warships. Tagos died at Atalia and Tethys here. That just leaves Timbale.”

“Tagos, Tethys, and Timbale all assigned to Varandal,” Geary grumbled. “Why do I suspect the personnel assignment bureau was playing one of its silly games again? Do they still do that?”

“They do.” She rolled her eyes. “One ship a few years back kept getting officers with the same last name. More than once I’ve vowed that if the war ever ended, I’d drop big rocks on the personnel bureau on my way home.”

“I’ll help.”

Desjani waved at the display. “At least you’ve formally picked up some new ships. Not many escorts survived among the Varandal defenders, but you’ve got two more battleships now and another battle cruiser.
Dreadnaught
,
Dependable
, and
Intemperate
are all beat to hell, but that just means they’ll fit in with the rest of the fleet.”

“Yeah, I guess they will. If I can’t talk to any admirals, at least with these orders we can get the fleet back in shape as fast as possible. Can I oversee that with the automated systems available?”

Desjani shook her head. “That’s too many worms crawling in too many directions. Just tracking repairs on the capital ships is going to be hard. Keeping a handle on work being done on the destroyers is going to be a nightmare given how many there are and how little time we have. Even with every automated assistant available, you’ll still need human assistance in tracking things. I recommend drawing on some of the engineering officers on the auxiliaries, but with
Dauntless
not facing the immediate prospect of battle, I can second you a few officers to help out here.”

“That won’t be a problem?”

“Not at all, sir,” Desjani assured him. “My junior officers love extra challenges.” The edges of her lips quivered, but she managed to suppress a smile.

“I bet they do. I know how much I loved them when I was a junior officer.” Geary stared at the stars, trying to get his mind around everything that needed to be done. “Is there anything else?”

“We’ve confirmed that a basic form of Captain Cresida’s safe-fail system has been installed already on the hypernet gate here. The more sophisticated version is being prepared. We can’t know how the information package Cresida put together is being received in other star systems, but the quick response here is a good sign. The safe-fail design should be spreading exponentially through the hypernet, and from what we’ve seen in public sources within this star system the images from Lakota are scaring the hell out of people.”

“Good. Very good. What about the Syndic hypernet key?”

“It’s off
Dauntless
and was delivered to a key-fabrication facility on the habitable world here. They should be duplicating it as we speak.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe we got it here. But we’re going to need that Syndic hypernet key.”

“Which is why we’re going to get it back,” Desjani added, earning an approving look from Geary. “Once all of the manufacturing data has been confirmed, they’ll be returning the Syndic hypernet key to
Dauntless
. Estimated time to return is thirty-six hours. We won’t have to keep its location on board a secret anymore, because the Alliance will be able to build as many copies as we want. But we’ll have the original again.”

“That’s great. I was afraid I’d have to kick up a storm to get the thing back.” He looked down, steeling himself for the next question. “There haven’t been any other messages for me?”

“No, sir. The only messages we’ve received from
Dreadnaught
were official status updates. Sir.” Geary glanced over at her. “She needs time. Jane Geary has to adjust to everything. Then she’ll respond to your personal messages.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “We may not have a lot of time.”

“Everyone knows that, including her. Remember that Michael Geary had weeks to learn to deal with the fact that you were still alive before you first spoke with him.”