Geary glanced back at Yuon, trying to match Desjani’s own casual words. “I hope you painted me in a good light, Lieutenant.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“Entering vulnerability period,” the maneuvering watch announced.
Desjani pulled out a ration bar. “Hungry?” she asked Geary.
“I had something earlier. Is that a Yanika Babiya?”
“No. It’s . . .” She squinted at the label. “Spicy chicken curry.”
“A chicken curry ration bar? How are they?”
Taking a small bite, Desjani chewed slowly, pretending not to be aware that everyone on the bridge was watching her instead of staring at the representation of the alien hypernet gate. “It’s definitely got curry in it. Spicy, not so much. Some of the other stuff
tastes
like chicken.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down too much, does it?” Geary said.
“Every kind of meat in a ration bar tastes like chicken, Captain,” Lieutenant Castries suggested. “Except the chicken.”
“You’re right, Lieutenant,” Desjani said. “Real chicken in ration bars tastes like, what, mutton?”
“Ham,” Yuon tossed in. “Bad ham.”
“So this can’t be chicken because it tastes like chicken,” Desjani concluded.
“Fifteen minutes to jump,” the maneuvering watch reported.
Geary checked the deceleration of his ships, seeing that all were braking at the proper rate to be down to point one light speed when they reached the jump point.
“What do you suppose the aliens taste like?” Desjani wondered.
“We can’t eat them,” Geary said. “They’re sentient.”
“Humans sometimes eat other humans in emergencies,” she pointed out. “Like after a shipwreck. It’s almost a naval tradition.”
“I’ve heard that,” Geary said. “Aren’t you supposed to eat the most junior personnel first?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Desjani looked toward her watch-standers. “Just so we have things planned out in advance, which one of you has the latest date of rank?”
The lieutenants exchanged looks and grins. “Actually, Captain,” Castries said, “Yuon and I were promoted on the same day.”
“Well, we can’t eat both of you right off the bat. I assume you’d object to using alphabetical order to decide the problem, Lieutenant Castries?”
“Not if we used first names, Captain,” Castries replied. “Mine is Xenia.”
“That would be hard to beat,” Desjani said. “Wouldn’t it, Lieutenant Bhasan Yuon?”
Yuon shook his head. “I really think Lieutenant Castries would make a better meal, Captain. I’d be tough and lean.”
“Five minutes to jump,” the maneuvering watch said.
“Maybe you two could flip a coin.” Desjani raised one finger, looking inspired. “No. I’ll just get an ensign assigned to this watch team.”
“Ensign slash emergency food supply?” Geary asked.
“We don’t have to put that in the position’s job description. It might discourage volunteers.”
“Master Chief Gioninni?” Yuon suggested.
“Lieutenant Yuon,” Desjani replied, “if Master Chief Gioninni were in the escape pod with us, he’d somehow trick the rest of us into getting eaten until he and any remaining survivors sailed grandly into some safe harbor, perhaps a world where Gioninni would convince the inhabitants to make him their ruler for life.”
Geary was watching his fleet now, sparing only quick glances for the alien hypernet gate, which still showed no signs of beginning to collapse. None of the ships were lagging anymore, every one matching pace with the others. Two minutes remaining. The fleet would jump automatically when the maneuvering systems detected that it was in position, so he didn’t even have to order the jump this time, which might have cost a few extra, critical seconds.
“One minute to jump,” the maneuvering watch said.
“It takes the gates more than a minute to collapse,” Desjani said, “and we haven’t seen it start. We’re clear.”
“Yes,” Geary agreed. “We are.” He tapped his controls. “All units, the aliens may be using their faster-than-light comm capability to muster forces at Alihi. Be ready for a fight when we exit jump.”
Forty seconds later, the fleet jumped for Alihi.
Desjani sighed and stood up as the gray of jump space replaced the alien threat at Hina. “I’m tired, and for some reason I’m hungry. I’m going to get something to eat.” She leaned closer to Geary. “Next time
you
come up with something to distract everyone.”
“I won’t be able to equal you.”
“No, but you can do your best, Admiral.” With that parting shot, Desjani left the bridge.
JUMP
space always tended to make humans uncomfortable. Humans didn’t belong in jump space. Maybe nothing really belonged there. Maybe the strange lights that came and went were reflections of something happening somewhere else. At some level beneath conscious thought, humans could never be at home in jump space, growing more irritable with every consecutive day spent there.
But whatever was bothering Geary during this jump to Alihi felt different from the usual jump jitters. Something that Desjani had said kept coming back, like a shadow half-glimpsed repeatedly.
If you’ve got a knife . . .
Why did the idea of the aliens wielding knives trouble him so?
Normal communications were impossible in jump, but between the time he had fought his battle at Grendel a century ago and when he had been found still alive in survival sleep, humanity had figured out how to send brief, simple messages between ships. On the fourth day of the jump, barely eight hours from exit at Alihi, a message came from
Mistral
for Geary.
Geary read it over again slowly, despite its necessary brevity.
Regarding aliens—Watch your back. Lagemann.
He had asked Desjani to come down to his stateroom to look at it and talk about it, and now she frowned in puzzlement. “We know the aliens can’t be trusted. Is that all he’s saying?”
“I don’t think so. He and his fellows are supposed to be trying to guess how the aliens will fight.”
“This sounds more like a warning against a stab in the back.”
“What?” Geary whirled to stare at her.
She switched the puzzlement to his reaction. “I said it sounds more like a warning against them trying to stab us in the back.”
“A knife. In the back.”
“I wasn’t speaking literally.”
Geary made a fist and rapped it against the side of his head. “Damn! That’s what it means! That’s what’s been bothering me!” He called up a display showing the Alihi star system, or at least what that star system had looked like when the Syndics had outposts there. “They strike from hiding. From ambush. If your worms aren’t working anymore to conceal you from enemy sensors, where can you hide in a star system?”
Desjani shrugged. “Behind the star. Behind a planet or moon.”
“Behind a jump exit?”
“No!” She stabbed a finger at the display. “You’re talking about an ambush force positioned behind a jump exit to catch an arriving force in the rear? It doesn’t work. It
can’t
work. The physics are against you.”
“Why?” Geary asked.
“Because, one, you don’t know if or when someone is arriving at a jump exit. It’s hard to maintain a position close to one and even harder right behind one. You’re going to do that for days, weeks, months? Two, whoever shows up is heading out of the exit, away from you, at up to point one light speed. You’re starting from a dead stop relative to them, so you need to accelerate into a stern chase. Maybe you can catch them, but it’ll take a while. While they watch you coming. That’s not exactly a surprise.”
Geary nodded. “Those are the same reasons why we never planned for ambushes like that a century ago. But what if you have faster-than-light communications?”
She paused. “Someone at the star you left could tell someone at the star you were going to that you were coming.”
“And they’d know pretty accurately when you’d appear because jump physics are consistent. If you enter jump at x time here en route there, the journey will take y time.”
Desjani shook her head. “But even then they wouldn’t know exactly where you’d be. They’d still have to be able to maneuver and accelerate much better than—Son of a bitch.” She gave him a stricken look. “
They
could do it.”
“Yeah.” Geary slumped back, staring ahead of him. “The possibility didn’t occur to us because we can’t do it. But they have two big advantages that make it feasible. And because of the FTL communications, they might even know what our formation is like. We have to leave jump in the same formation we entered. There’s no way to maneuver in jump space.”
“They’ll hit the auxiliaries, and maybe the assault transports. They’re all in the rear of our main subformation, with no escorts behind them.” Desjani pressed her palms against her eyes. “Can we get enough of our force reversed and able to cover those ships in time?”
“It takes time to recover from jump,” Geary said bitterly. “And time to pivot ships and brake velocity so we can let the auxiliaries pass us. Even if we tell our comm systems to transmit prepared orders the instant we exit, it will still take precious moments for the other ships’ crews to recover enough to respond, and I have a nasty suspicion that every second will count.”
Desjani pointed to the message from
Mistral
. “Keep it simple, and we can send the messages in jump.”
Simple. Something simple that could counter what he hadn’t planned for at all.
“You’ve still got almost seven hours before we leave jump to think of something,” Desjani added.
“Oh,
that
helps take the pressure off.”
“Sorry.”
THE
aliens were waiting at Alihi.
Geary’s brain hadn’t begun to focus when he felt
Dauntless
swinging her bow up and around, the battle cruiser pivoting in response to maneuvering orders entered while the ship was still in jump.
Dauntless
was lighting off her main propulsion units, braking the velocity of the ship at the maximum rate her crew and structure could survive, when alarms began blaring from the combat systems. As Geary’s vision began to finally clear, he felt
Dauntless
shudder slightly as specter missiles launched on orders from combat systems given freedom to immediately engage targets assessed hostile.
His message had gone to the other major warships in the main formation. Battle cruisers
Dauntless
,
Daring
,
Victorious
, and
Intemperate
, battleships
Warspite
,
Vengeance
,
Revenge
,
Guardian
,
Fearless
,
Resolution
, and
Redoubtable
. It had been as short and simple as required by the nature of jump space communications.
Immediate Execute on exit, pivot one eight zero, brake point zero five, engage enemy.
That was the fastest response he could create if the aliens were waiting to hit the back of his force.
There might be enigma warships waiting in front of the jump exit, but if so, hopefully the heavy and light cruisers and the destroyers remaining in the main formation would be able to handle them.
He finally managed to get a good look at his display as
Dauntless
’s hell lances started firing. Enigma warships were clawing their way toward the rear of the Alliance formation, the squat turtle shapes varying in size from rough equivalents to human destroyers to some massing a little more than heavy cruisers. Thirty . . . no forty. Forty-one. The courses of the enigma warships altered slightly as
Dauntless
,
Daring
,
Victorious
, and
Intemperate
slowed enough for the auxiliaries to lumber past, the battle cruisers pivoting and decelerating faster than the battleships could.
Dauntless
shuddered repeatedly as the aliens concentrated their fire on the four battle cruisers. Even though the battle cruisers were bow on to the enemy, their weaker shields were failing, and shots were penetrating to strike their lightly armored hulls. Geary had only a second to decide what to do, his hand hitting his comm controls as
Daring
staggered under a particularly bad barrage. “
Dauntless
,
Daring
,
Victorious
, and
Intemperate
, continue to brake velocity at maximum sustainable rate!”
As the battered battle cruisers continued to slow, the aliens accelerated past them, aiming once again for the eight auxiliaries. Grapeshot from the battle cruisers hit the enigmas as they tore past, and
Victorious
caught one with its null field, carving out a large chunk of the alien ship.
His display showed no other aliens around the jump exit, so Geary hastily sent another command. “All ships maneuver freely to engage the enemy. Captain Smythe, get your ships clear!”