Impávido (62 page)

“Maybe the only person fooling you is yourself,” Geary snapped.

“Maybe,” Rione stated, though her voice and expression held no trace of agreement. “I know what I’ll be doing for the long period until we reach Sancere. What will you be doing?”

“Why do you care?” Geary shrugged. “I won’t be plotting taking over the Alliance or another attack on the Syndic home system, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You seem to think you know my worries. What are yours, Captain Geary?”

To his surprise, the question seemed sincere. “My worries.” He looked down, feeling the weight of command heavily again. “Worries that the Syndics have anticipated this move. Worries about forty ships from this fleet that I’m sure are charging straight into a trap under the command of that deluded fool Falco and his stupid friend Numos.”

Rione nodded. “I’d add a worry to that. If what you guess is true about the origin and possible ulterior purpose of the hypernet gates, do you dare win, Captain Geary?”

“Win?” He laughed. “Do you believe I’m thinking in terms of winning this war? I’m out to get this fleet home safely, Madam Co-President. In the process, I may be able to inflict some blows to the Syndic war effort. But I’m under no illusions that anything I can do will break the stalemate.”

“But you’ve come up with a weapon that could break that stalemate.”

Geary took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before replying. “That’s a weapon I will not use by choice.

Hopefully never, but certainly not by choice. Keep it safe, keep it hidden, Madam Co-President. When we get home, I’m sure there’s people you’ll be able to trust with knowledge of it.”

She shook her head. “There you are wrong, Captain Geary. No one can be trusted with this knowledge.”

“You want to destroy it?”

“And if I do?”

He thought again for a little while. “I guess I wouldn’t know. It’s up to you.”

Rione stood up, coming closer to peer at Geary. “I don’t understand you. Every time I think I do, you do something that doesn’t match what I know of you.”

“Maybe you’re trying too hard.” Geary smiled humorlessly. “I’m not all that complex.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Captain Geary. You’re far more complex than whatever theory underlies the hypernet. I just hope I figure you out eventually.”

He nodded. “When you do, give me a briefing so we’ll both have me figured out.”

“I’ll do that.” Rione turned to go, then looked back at him. “You’re either that most dangerous of demagogues, one who outwardly so perfectly pretends to be honest and honorable that others can’t find grounds to hate or distrust him, or else I’ve misjudged you again. I sincerely hope I am in error, Captain Geary, because otherwise you are even more dangerous than I’d believed before this.”

He watched her leave, feeling a sense of reassurance despite her obvious distrust and hostility toward him. If anyone in this fleet could be trusted with the contents of that disc, surely it was Co-President Rione. Dangerous. I would’ve laughed at that description not so long ago. But now I know a weapon exists. What I do with that knowledge could doom more than the Alliance.

What do the Syndics know? They started this damned war. Why? Did they know something that forced their hand?

GEARY had forgotten the itchy sensation that developed after too long straight in jump space, as if your own skin wasn’t quite yours anymore and no longer fit right. But he barely noticed it now, sitting on the bridge of the Dauntless, waiting for the fleet to exit jump. Within a few minutes, he’d know if his gamble was going to at least partly pay off. Within a few days he was entirely too likely to learn what happened when a hypernet gate was destroyed.

The display for Sancere floated next to his chair. Alliance intelligence knew precious little about the system, and the old Syndic star system guide had offered only slightly more information since things like numbers and placement of defensive installations were all classified. Certainly Sancere was rich in resources as well as jump points. Eight significant planets orbited the star, two small ones in close orbits, two more within the habitable range, one of those almost perfect, then a colder but usable planet slightly farther out, and three resource-rich gas giants way beyond those. The Alliance fleet would drop back into normal space just outside the orbit of the last gas giant, about three and half light-hours from the star.

“One minute to jump exit,” Captain Desjani reported calmly.

Geary glanced around the bridge. All of the watch-standers seemed slightly nervous, but in an excited way, not a frightened one. Ignorance is bliss, he thought. No, that can’t be right. What I don’t know right now is driving me nuts. Ignorance is only blissful if you don’t know you’re ignorant.

Geary was still pondering that when the hatch to the bridge opened again and Co-President Rione entered, going to the observer’s seat she hadn’t used since her argument with Geary back in the Sutrah Star System. He looked at Rione, and she gazed back steadily, her face rigid, her eyes watching him but revealing nothing of her feelings. Geary flashed back to his days as a midshipman, when evaluators would ride behind him in ship simulators, ready to pounce on any error he made.

Captain Desjani greeted Rione with formal politeness, her attitude unwelcoming. She’d picked up on the chill between Geary and Rione, and being Tanya Desjani, had rushed to stand beside Geary against anyone opposed to him. Not wanting open warfare to break out between the two women right there on the bridge of the Dauntless, with him in the middle dodging fire between the two sides, Geary searched for a diversion. “Captain Desjani, I’d like to make an announcement to the crew of the Dauntless.”

Breaking her targeting lock on Co-President Rione, Desjani nodded to Geary. “Of course, sir.”

Geary tapped the necessary control. He could’ve done that without asking Desjani, but it wouldn’t have been proper to speak to the crew without doing the captain the courtesy of asking first. “All hands, this is Captain Geary. We’re about to arrive at the Sancere Star System. I know you’ll all do your utmost to uphold the honor of the fleet and the Alliance. May the living stars grant us a great victory, and may our ancestors look with favor upon us.” In one sense, none of that needed to be said, but in another sense, it was the sort of pep talk that filled a real human need. Geary wondered, if his speculations about the hypernet were true, whether whatever had given humanity that creation also felt the need for speeches and sentiments.

“Our ancestors brought us this far,” Desjani noted in a much softer voice. She glanced at Geary, leaving unsaid what he knew she was thinking, that they’d also brought the fleet Geary himself.

Her faith could be unnerving, but she was only one of thousands throughout the fleet who felt that way. I wonder if Captain Falco has ever felt unequal to the faith others felt in him, or does he even worry about that as long as people agree that he’s great? From what I saw of him and learned of him, Falco hasn’t spent much time worrying about others or about his own ability to justify others’ faith in him. I guess being certain of your own infallibility eliminates a lot of anxiety. Last night Geary had spent a long time talking to his ancestors, expressing his fears and asking their help. At times like this not having faith would be a hard thing, he reflected, and wondered how others managed to face crises calmly without that support.

“Stand by for jump exit,” a watch-stander reported. “Now.”

Geary’s guts wrenched slightly, his skin settled back happily into place, and the stars blazed forth on the external views. Objects on the display for Sancere System began multiplying as if in some insane video game where enemies flashed into existence in droves. Of course all of these Syndic defenses and installations had been there before. The fleet’s sensors were just finding them now, as reports flowed in and watch-standers called out the most critical. The human interface might be clumsy and slower than the automated systems, but despite its flaws, the human mind had proved to still be the best way of filtering information and highlighting the most important.

“Warhelm reports a Syndic system monitoring satellite close to its position. Warhelm reports it has destroyed the satellite. Ships located twenty light-minutes to starboard in system plane, assess all to be unarmed mineral carriers. No mines spotted or encountered. Six, repeat, six F-Class battleships identified at shipyard orbiting fourth planet. Only one appears operational. Eight, repeat, eight D-Class battle cruisers at second shipyard orbiting fourth planet. Operational status undetermined. Syndic military base located forty light-minutes away on a moon of the eighth planet, appears fully operational, nine, no, ten mass accelerators in defensive positions around base—”

Geary scanned his fleet display quickly and stabbed a control with one finger. “Captain Tulev. Have your ships take out that Syndic base near the eighth planet with kinetic rounds. I don’t want to give them time to get off a shot.”

Tulev’s voice took several seconds to reply. “Launching bombardment of weapons sites now. What about the rest of the base?”

There wasn’t time for worries or second-guessing, now. Just time to act and react before the enemy took the options out of your hands. “Take it all out. We can’t leave that kind of threat in our rear.”

The next closest base seemed to be near the fifth planet, over three light-hours away. “Captain Duellos, have your ships launch kinetic rounds at the Syndic military base orbiting the fifth planet. I don’t want it around when we get there.”

“Duellos, aye. Launching bombardment within two minutes.”

Geary bit back a curse as he saw his formation start to break, then realized he was seeing the ships of Task Force Furious faking an undisciplined charge just as planned. Hopefully the Syndics would be fooled as well as he had been. Ancestors, please stand by Commander Cresida so she’ll retreat when the situation calls for it.

“Syndic warship flotilla sighted between orbits of fifth and sixth worlds, distance five point eight light-hours from current fleet position. Ten battleships, six battle cruisers, twelve heavy cruisers, ten, correction, eleven Hunter-Killers. Current position shown time-late, estimated real-time location based on time-late trajectory data now five point six light-hours from our current position.”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Desjani noted, smiling unpleasantly. “Not nearly enough light escorts for those high-value units, either.”

“Enough that we can’t take them lightly,” Geary reminded her. “I’m guessing the big ships are conducting training, maybe with new crews or after extensive time in shipyards, so that isn’t really a combat-ready formation, even though the Syndics probably also assign it system protection duties.” His eyes were locked on the hypernet gate now. “There’s nothing there. They don’t have any ships guarding it.” Then symbols flashed into existence. “What are those?”

Desjani frowned, studying the data. “Stealthy defensive units around the hypernet gate. Limited maneuverability, substantial defensive screens and so-so offensive firepower.”

“They can maneuver some?”

She nodded to confirm her answer.

“That means we can’t send some rocks on ahead to take them out. They’d see them coming and dodge.”

He checked the distance. Almost five light-hours to the hypernet gate. Even if they accelerated past engagement speed and slowed again when they approached the gate, the fleet was at least thirty-five hours’ travel time from the gate. Some dash. But then Task Force Furious is “charging” at a Syndic force even farther away that won’t even see them coming for almost another six hours. That’ll be a shock.

Hopefully Task Force Furious will keep the Syndics’ attention focused on them.

But I don’t want to head straight for the gate if I can help it. He tried various options on the maneuvering display, running courses toward other Syndic targets, bending them back toward the gate partway through the track. By arcing across the system toward mining installations clustered around a gas giant located a light-hour out from the star Sancere, then curving back toward the gate, the journey would take roughly fifty-three hours at engagement speed of .1 light. But the Alliance fleet’s apparent objective wouldn’t change from the gas giant to the gate until they were less than two light-hours away, or a little more than eighteen hours of travel time. That wasn’t ideal, but it would leave little time for the Syndics to react if they hadn’t already positioned extra forces at the gate.

“Here,” Geary told Desjani. “We’re going to follow this track as if intending to wipe out the mining facilities at the gas giant and then continue in system, smashing other things, but instead shift our course to head for the gate.”

She nodded, studying Geary’s plan. “We can toss out a bombardment as we reach the closest point of approach to the gas giant and take out a lot of those facilities anyway.”

“Will we need anything from them?” Geary asked. “I can find out before we get to the firing point. I’ve got plenty of time to ask Captain Tyrosian on the Witch.” The engineers in charge of the fleet auxiliaries Titan, Witch, Goblin, and Jinn would know what raw materials they needed to manufacture the things the fleet needed to keep going. He considered the display again, trying to decide if he should change the formation yet, then decided against it. It was still far too early to tell how the Syndic warship flotilla would react, and for a sweep against the shipyards and other targets in the system this formation would be fine.

Geary took a moment to gloat over the hulls of the battleships and battle cruisers under construction.

Very dangerous threats when completed and crewed, under way with other Syndic warships, they were now sitting ducks that the Alliance fleet could destroy easily. Though there was always a chance the Syndics would try to get any nearly completed ones under way so they could flee. In addition to the assembled hulls, components of more battleships and battle cruisers had now been sighted. All of those would be easily destroyed as well as the shipyard facilities that were constructing them.

“It’s so strange,” Co-President Rione observed. Her voice had lost its coldness, caught up in the unfolding situation. “Here we’re at war, choosing our targets. Yet almost every Syndicate Worlds installation, ship, and individual in this system doesn’t even know we’ve arrived yet.”