The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian (17 page)

BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian
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“Corporal.” Captain Smythe had linked in, too, and was speaking to Maksomovic. “Commander Plant is here. She’ll walk you through disarming the Syndic nuke. Do you recognize the munition, Commander?”

“Oh, yes,” Commander Plant said cheerfully, “I recognize it. A standard Syndic Mark Five Fusion munition. Mod . . . three. Exactly like the other one that we just disarmed while everyone else was busy wiping out the last Syndics. A really nice piece of weaponeering. The Syndics can do some good work.”

“Can we render it safe, Commander?” Admiral Lagemann asked as he joined the conversation.

“Yes. Of course. Mostly safe, anyway.”

“Mostly safe?” Corporal Maksomovic asked hesitantly. The corporal had to be intently aware that not only was he floating beside a nuclear weapon but that an entire bevy of senior officers had come to watch and listen to him.

“Absolutely,” Commander Plant said. “Do you see an access panel with eight fastenings near the top? There? That one.”

“This one?” The Marine corporal’s hand reached toward the indicated access.

“Yes. Don’t touch that one.”

Geary watched the corporal’s hand jerk back as if a cobra’s head had just emerged from the bomb casing.

“Try to find an oval access with five fittings. It should be about midway up the casing. That’s it!”

“Am I supposed to touch this one?” Corporal Maksomovic asked.

“Yes. Pull the fittings. Don’t worry. The Syndics hardly ever booby-trap those.”

The corporal’s armored hand, which seemed to be trembling slightly, pried open the fittings.

“Now,” Commander Plant continued, “pry open the access. Not the top! Bottom first!”

Corporal Maksomovic’s hand jerked back again. He was mumbling something inaudible as he reached for the bottom of the panel and popped it up. A mass of wires was visible inside, reaching from above the access and leading down to separate locations below its rim.

“All right,” Plant said, “reach in, grab as many wires as you can, and pull them out.”

The corporal’s hand froze in midmotion. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Reach in, grab as many as you can, and pull them out. One yank.”

“Uh, ma’am, I was sort of expecting some directions that were a little more detailed. You know, like find this one wire labeled this way that’s this color and carefully snip it without damaging anything else.”

“Oh, no, no, no. That would be way too risky,” Commander Plant insisted. “It’s much safer to just yank them all out at once. It won’t explode if you do that. Well, it might explode. But not very much.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, this conversation is not doing my morale any good at all.”

“Trust me! I’m telling you to do exactly what I would do if I were there. The first one we disarmed didn’t explode, did it?”

Despite the commander’s last statement, the corporal didn’t seem eager to follow the instructions.

“Corporal Maksomovic, do as she says,” Major Dietz instructed.

“Yes, sir,” the corporal replied in the fatalistic tones of a man ordered to jump off a high cliff by someone holding a gun on him.

Geary watched the corporal’s armored fist reach into the access and gather a thick cord of wires in its grasp.

“I just yank ’em out?” Maksomovic asked.

“Yes,” Commander Plant said. “All at once. Give it a good, hard yank and pull as many as you can out of there.”

Geary noticed in the periphery of the corporal’s view that his companions were edging gingerly away, as if an extra meter of distance would offer some sort of critical defense against a fusion bomb going off this close to them.

“Here goes nothing,” Corporal Maksomovic said, then tensed for his pull. The augmented strength of the Marine combat armor allowed the corporal to give a very powerful yank. A rat’s nest of wires came completely free in his armored fist, leaving broken ends and connectors inside the bomb.

A single spark flared among the torn components visible inside the access. Geary realized his breathing had stopped the moment that spark snapped. But when nothing else followed, he managed to draw a deep breath.

The Marine corporal sounded as if he hadn’t been breathing, either. “Now what, ma’am?”

“Recycle the wires,” Plant replied, as if she had been directing the repair of nothing more hazardous than a balky bicycle. “I’d recommend putting the munition on a lifter and tossing it out the nearest air lock. You might still get a little explosion out of it, and there’s no sense risking that.”

“A little explosion?” Admiral Lagemann asked, clearly wondering what level of violence the munitions engineer would classify as “little.” But if he meant to ask, he changed his mind. “Do you need it for any kind of study or exploitation?”

“No, thank you, Admiral. We’ve captured a few of these. I doubt there’s anything we could learn from this one.”

“There aren’t any technical issues we could glean from it,” Captain Smythe corrected, “but we should still examine both nuclear munitions for any serial numbers or other data that might link them to a particular Syndic source. If you don’t object, Admiral Geary, I’ll have a shuttle sent over from
Tanuki
to collect both disarmed munitions.”

“Admiral Lagemann?” Geary asked.

“I think I speak for everyone aboard
Invincible
when I say we can’t get rid of those nukes any too soon,” Lagemann replied. “Captain Smythe is welcome to them.”

“Good work, Corporal,” Major Dietz said to Maksomovic.

“Thank you, sir. I’ve gotta confess, I would have been pretty nervous if the timer had been counting down while I was working on that thing,” Maksomovic admitted, as if he hadn’t actually been nervous as it was.

“The timer?” Commander Plant asked, surprised. “Oh, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. The timers on these Syndic munitions are fakes. As soon as you arm the weapon and activate the timer, the weapon goes off immediately.”

A long pause followed her words.

“Really?” Admiral Lagemann finally asked. “I’d heard rumors about that, but . . .”

“The rumors are true. Think about it, Admiral. You’ve got a target important enough to smuggle a nuke into it. Are you really going to risk having someone come along and deactivate the weapon while its timer is running?”

“What happens to whoever set the weapon and activated the timer?”

Commander Plant sounded puzzled by the question. “They’re standing next to a fusion event, Admiral. They don’t even have time to know what hit them before they’re gone. And I do mean gone. There’s nothing left. Plasma, maybe. Some charged particles. That’s it.”

“But . . .” Corporal Maksomovic said slowly, “
we’ve
got munitions like this.”

This time the pause was even longer and more awkward.

“We’re not the Syndics!” Captain Smythe declared with what seemed an excessive amount of jovial nonchalance. “Let’s stop all this chatter and get that disarmed weapon out of there, shall we?”

Recalling the old saying about not asking questions that you don’t really want to know the answers to, Geary exited the link and looked at Desjani. “All right. The situation is completely secure aboard
Invincible
. Let’s get back into a regular formation and head for the jump point for Simur. What kind of route to the jump point did you work up?”

She grinned as she sent his display the planned maneuver.

Geary looked at it, looked again, then nodded appreciatively. “Instead of cutting across the edge of the star system, you want to dive toward the star, then loop back up to the jump exit?”

“It adds about a light-hour to the trip, but there’s no way they’ll have any surprises along that path,” Desjani predicted.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have gone that far off the optimal trajectory, which might have given the Syndics here a chance to adjust another attack. We’ll go with this. There’s one more thing I have to check before we head out, though.”

He called Captain Smythe again. “We’re getting ready to leave this area. Have your engineers completed their inspection of the hypernet gate?”

Smythe sighed heavily. “Yes, Admiral, and I regret to say that the gate was damaged extensively. Oddly enough, the damage could only be detected by a very close examination, but it is serious enough and extensive enough that the hypernet gate will begin to collapse . . . thirty-seven minutes and twenty seconds from now.”

“That’s a remarkably precise estimate,” Geary said.

“I’m a remarkably precise engineer, Admiral. I have a report you can pass on to the Syndics here. I made sure to emphasize that debris from
Orion
and from some of the courier ships was responsible for the damage. And don’t worry about the Syndics analyzing our report and reaching erroneous conclusions about the cause of the gate’s collapse. I had Lieutenant Jamenson prepare the report using her skills to the best of her ability.”

“Thank you, Captain Smythe.” Lieutenant Jamenson, the officer whose gift was to confuse things so that they were technically accurate yet also effectively indecipherable. The Syndics would never be able to produce any meaningful evidence from a report she had put effort into. “I’ll get the fleet moving.”

Roughly thirty-seven minutes later, with the fleet’s warships still taking up their new positions in the formation and the entire force accelerating back up to point one light speed, Geary watched the hypernet gate collapse behind them. The devices called tethers, which held the linked energy matrix in check, failed one at a time or in groups, the entire process occurring in a complex sequence that would prevent that energy matrix from erupting in a burst that could sweep all life from this star system. The ebb and flow of vast forces inside the collapsing gate as the failure sequence balanced and canceled out the contending waves of energy produced distortions in space itself that could be seen with the naked eye.

He had felt those forces, close up, while trying to keep the hypernet gate at Sancere from annihilating that star system. He had no wish to ever be that close to a collapsing gate again. Even now, from this distance, the vision created a queasy sense of viewing something humans were never meant to see. It was one thing to know the science that said how tenuous “reality” was, how bizarre the shape of what lay behind the physical universe, and another thing to actually see the strangeness and instability behind the curtain.

But for all that, there was still a great satisfaction in watching this gate die. It would not bring back
Orion
, but it would put a price on her loss that the Syndics could ill afford.

The final death throes of the hypernet gate were peaking. The size of the distortion in space shrank rapidly even as the energy levels in it grew frighteningly intense, then the last bursts of energy collided, waves canceling each other, and abruptly nothing remained but a few scattered pieces of equipment drifting through space.

SEVEN

“THE
senior Syndic CEO in this star system expressed his sorrow at our loss,” Rione reported in a flat voice. “He also claimed to have no idea of the identity of the courier ships, saying the Syndic government had sold all of the ones which attacked us. If I press him for the identity of who the government sold them to, the answer will surely be a shocked avowal that the corporation which bought the ships has turned out to be a shell controlled by unknown parties.”

“No surprises there,” Geary said, trying to keep his own voice emotionless. They were in the conference room at her request for a private conversation. “How soon after the attack did that message get sent to us?”

“They transmitted it twenty minutes after they would have seen the attack end,” Rione said. “Enough time lag to ensure it wasn’t obvious they knew the attack would occur as soon as we arrived. They haven’t yet denied any involvement in the attack on
Invincible
.”

“Aside from the destruction of the stealth shuttles, there weren’t external signs of that attack,” Geary pointed out. “If they denied being involved in something that they could not have seen, it would look suspicious.”

“What shall we tell them about it?” Rione asked, sitting down opposite him and leaning one elbow on the table.

He looked at the star display floating between them, where the star Sobek occupied the center and the track of the First Fleet formed a graceful arc leading toward that star. Light-hours from the fleet, the primary inhabited world in this star system orbited Sobek. The world where the CEOs were located who had at the very least known of, and possibly assisted in, the attacks that had claimed
Orion
as well as some Alliance Marines aboard
Invincible
.

“Nothing,” Geary finally said. “Let them wonder what happened.”

She pursed her mouth and shook her head. “We could tell them that we have some prisoners who we are taking back to Alliance space as evidence.”

“Evidence of what? Those prisoners won’t say a thing to confirm any official Syndic involvement. Our doctors say if we try hard enough to force them, it will kill the prisoners.”

“We know that,” Rione said. “The Syndics do not. They know what they did to those soldiers. They don’t know whether or not we have developed new techniques for dealing with mental conditioning.”

“Hmmm.” That could make some Syndic CEOs very nervous indeed. And perhaps spare some future soldiers being given the same conditioning if the Syndics believed the conditioning wouldn’t stop them from talking. “If you can imply something like that, go ahead. But don’t offer any details about the attack on
Invincible
.”

“Do you think I’m an amateur, Admiral?” She glanced at the star display. “We should also tell them that we were unable to save their hypernet gate despite our best efforts.”

“Did you see the report that Captain Smythe prepared for us to send to the Syndics?”

“Smythe didn’t write that. I’d like to know who did.”

“Why?”

Rione eyed him. “Because whoever it is has some very useful talents.”

Geary bent his lips momentarily in a totally fake smile. “That person’s identity is my secret for now.”

“Have it your way.”

She had given in too easily. He had a feeling that Rione would be bending some efforts to learn Lieutenant Jamenson’s identity. “Is there anything else?”

“One other thing, Admiral.” She turned an enigmatic look on him. “How do you feel about it?”

“About what?”

“Destroying the hypernet gate. How do you feel about it?”

“What kind of question is that?” Geary said, avoiding an answer.

“You stepped across a line, Admiral. You and I both know that. You ordered the destruction of that gate even though legally you had no right to do so. The collapse of the hypernet gate here will send a clear message to the Syndics about the consequences of messing with this fleet, but you need to keep in mind that the limits on what you can do are only those limits that you place on yourself.”

He almost shouted at her, almost told her to go to hell, that good men and women had died, and the Syndics here should be extremely grateful that he hadn’t launched an orbital bombardment that would have wrecked every human city, town, and installation in this star system. Instead, he counted to ten inside before once again trying to deflect her. “As I recall, someone gave me the idea for that action.”

“Someone did,” Rione admitted calmly. “Is that a defense or a rationalization?
I did it, but someone else gave me the idea.
You can do better than that.”

“Why did you give me the idea if you’re so worried about the precedent it sets for me?” Geary pressed.

“Because I could tell how angry you were. How angry everyone in this fleet was. I can only guess what you
wanted
to do after we lost that battleship. The gate offered a means to strike back in a way that would hurt the Syndics badly but not by the sort of overt retaliation that might have created even more trouble.”

He kept his eyes on the star display, trying to come up with another way of avoiding a straight answer. But Geary realized that her warning was justified.
That’s why I don’t want to answer her, to admit that she’s right. I wanted to do worse. Maybe I would have, if she hadn’t suggested using the gate’s collapse as a means to retaliate. But that kind of mass retaliation is exactly what we’re supposed to avoid. It’s a Syndic tactic. It’s not what our ancestors would approve of.

I cannot forget that. I have moved my own boundaries for behavior I would accept. I have to hold them where they now are because if they slip any more, Black Jack could get away with doing things I once would never have accepted.

Eventually, he looked back at Rione and nodded. “I understand. I know what you mean, and I understand the potential dangers. I will keep your words in mind.”

“Good.” It was impossible to tell whether or not Rione was pleased that he had accepted her warning. “I’ll send a message to the senior Syndic CEO in Sobek, officially protesting the attack on our forces and explaining that, alas, we could not save the hypernet gate, which was too badly damaged during the fighting. He’ll know that’s not what happened, but there’s nothing he’ll be able to do about it. That report from Captain Smythe will infuriate them because it offers them nothing they can use. This star system is well enough off, but it only has one jump point. It’s at a dead end in space. They’re going to miss that gate.”

“I hope so,” Geary said. “I hope every minute of every day they look up and realize their hypernet gate is gone and that what’s left of the Syndicate Worlds can’t afford to replace it. And I hope a lot of other star systems still loyal to the Syndic government hear about it and reconsider what sorts of orders they’re willing to follow.”

“Don’t hold out hopes for that result.” She shook her head at him, looking severe. “Remember what
you
reminded this fleet of. Destroying things and killing does not often bend people to your will. They are far more likely to react in classic human fashion, by resolving not to bend or break despite every rational reason to do so. We may have strengthened the hold of the Syndicate Worlds on this star system by destroying their hypernet gate.” She paused to let that sink in, then noticing that Geary wasn’t going to argue the point, Rione went on. “On another matter, I will mention to the Syndic authorities that we hold . . . five . . . yes, I’ll say five individuals.”

“We only captured two Syndics on
Invincible
,” Geary pointed out.

“Details, details. Two prisoners aren’t enough to make them sweat. Five is a large enough number of prisoners to really worry them. Five individuals who lack any identification but are responding positively to treatment and are beginning to provide us with answers to the questions we are asking.”

“Thank you,” Geary said. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“Don’t make that mistake, Admiral,” she warned with every appearance of sincerity. “I am not on your side. I am on the side of the Alliance. That has never changed. One thing more. I will tell the senior Syndic CEO that the Alliance government will hold the Syndicate Worlds responsible for any further attacks carried out using Syndic ships or equipment no matter who is employing those weapons.”

“Can you do that?” Geary asked. “That’s threatening war if we get attacked again.”

She spread her hands and smiled. “I am officially a voice of the government until we return to Alliance space. The government may repudiate my threats once we return, but until then, the Syndics have to take them seriously.” Rione regarded him with a questioning expression, head tilted to one side as if to study him better. “Something else is bothering you, Admiral.”

“Yes, it is.” Geary clenched one fist, looking down at it as he spoke. “Quite aside from your reminder to me that I forgot my own rules about the limitations of reprisals in altering human behavior.”

“Think of the destruction of that gate as vengeance for
Orion
, nothing more or less, and expect no benefits to flow from the act. You’re human, Black Jack. Take the lesson to heart and move on.”

“All right. But the other thing that worries me isn’t so easily disposed of. Even if the Syndics take your threat seriously, word of that threat will have to filter back to the right people. It will take time, as ships carry the threat to the Syndic government at Prime. Then word will have to come back from Prime. Just because of that time lag, which will measure in months, anything else they have already planned will take place no matter how seriously the Syndic leaders regard your words when they finally hear them.”

“That’s true,” Rione conceded. “Maybe my threats are my own form of retaliation, something I should know won’t really work but make me feel better.”

“No, the threat is still a good idea. The impact will take place over the long haul, so it can’t help us anytime soon, but it might change the plans of the Syndics in coming months. And there’s always the chance that if something else is planned for this star system, the local authorities might call it off, using your threats as justification.”

She nodded, as if thinking of something else, then spoke abruptly. “This diversion through Sobek is costing us time, isn’t it? How much?”

“Not too much,” Geary said, knowing that Rione was asking that question because of her concern for her husband, still sedated and now in sick bay on
Dauntless
. “It’s a bit longer a path than if we’d come through Indras as originally planned, but only ten days more unless we run into significant obstacles at Simur or Padronis. Atalia is so close to Alliance territory that I don’t think the Syndics could have prestaged any attacks there without them being spotted, even assuming that Atalia would cooperate with the Syndics.”

“Ten days can be a long time, Admiral,” Rione said, one of the few times she openly admitted to the strains upon her.

Geary nodded in reply, not certain what words would be right, if any, and thinking about the sort of obstacles this fleet might encounter the rest of the way back to Varandal.


OVER
the next several hours, Geary was bombarded with messages from the Syndic authorities in Sobek Star System. They demanded to know exactly what had caused the hypernet gate to collapse, they demanded to know why the Alliance warships were taking a path diving through the star system if they were simply headed for the jump point for Simur, they demanded that the fleet release to their custody any Syndicate World citizens in Alliance custody, and, in a breathtaking bit of gall, they demanded payment for the Alliance fleet’s use of the hypernet gate.

Geary was on the bridge of
Dauntless
when Rione informed him of the latest demand. Before replying, he made sure the privacy field around him was activated so none of the bridge watch-standers could overhear. “Emissary Rione, please inform the Syndicate authorities that they can go to hell, where they will doubtless receive everything that is due them.”

“Do you want me to phrase that diplomatically?” she asked.

“If you want to. I’m not worried about offending them. What’s the proper reply on the prisoners issue?”

She spread her hands apologetically. “The individuals in our custody have no proof of Syndic citizenship. We have to assume that they are stateless unless the authorities here want to both claim them as citizens and accept responsibility for their actions.”

“That works for me.” He paused, looking at his display. “Lieutenant Iger and his people have found no evidence of any Alliance prisoners of war in this star system. It’s just as well. If they were here, the local Syndics would probably try to bargain a swap for the prisoners we hold now.”

“There’s been no hint of that,” Rione said.

“What about the stealth shuttles we destroyed? Any comments from the CEOs about that?”

Rione actually rolled her eyes in a rare display of open contempt. “The Syndic authorities here blame that and everything else on
rogue elements
and
unknown actors
who are all
not operating under the authority of the Syndicate Worlds
. They are, in their words, shocked that military equipment ended up in the hands of criminals who, for reasons of their own, attacked us.”

“Too bad you can’t strangle a virtual image in a transmission,” Geary said.

“That is a shame. I’m a bit disappointed they aren’t making a better effort at lying about what they’re doing.” Her expression had turned grim. “It may be that they want us to react, to overreact, in a way that nullifies the peace treaty. Or the opposite could be true, that they think Black Jack won’t overreact, that you will keep your responses limited and thus allow the Syndics to keep inflicting minor injuries upon us until they add up to major injury.”


Orion
wasn’t a minor injury,” Geary said. “What do you think my options are?”

“Walk a tightrope, Admiral. Hit them back harder than they expect but not so hard that they can cry injustice.”

“How am I supposed to figure out what’s hard enough but not too hard?”

BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian
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