The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Invincible (27 page)

Geary nodded. “But self-defense is another matter. Failure to have sufficient defenses would produce an outcome they don’t want, or introduce uncertainty into whether or not someone would attack.”

“Yes. Which is all a very convoluted way of answering your initial question. Yes, I believe we can trust the spider-wolves. I am certain that they don’t want to start a war with us. If we started a war with them, they would fight back with all of the cleverness and skill they possess. But they won’t begin a war with us. They don’t know what that would do to the pattern.”

It all fit together. “Self-interest.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Self-interest,” Geary explained. “How is every nonhuman intelligent species acting? In what they believe to be their own self-interest. The enigmas are convinced that hiding anything about themselves is vitally important, so they’ll do anything to keep us from learning anything. The bear-cows think we want to eat them, so they’ll do anything to stop us from doing that. And the spider-wolves think we can help anchor their pattern if we work together, or seriously disrupt it if we fought. The one thing they all have in common is the pursuit of what they have decided is their own self-interest.”

General Charban sat back, considering that. “Humans, too. Why are we here? Because we considered it important to know whether the enigmas could be dealt with short of war and to learn how powerful they were. It was in our self-interest to risk this fleet on such a mission.”

“The self-interest of humanity as a whole, you mean,” Geary said, hearing the acid in his tone.

“Just so,” Charban agreed. “This mission isn’t the sort of thing that promotes the self-interests of the humans in the crews. Perhaps we’re not so different in that respect from the enigmas or the bear-cows. Humanity is just as willing to sacrifice some of its own number in the name of the greater good. I’m going to pass your idea on to our civilian experts if that’s all right with you. It might offer a place, a concept, where we can make emotional contact with even the most alien of species.”

“Good.” Geary held out a restraining hand as Charban began to rise. “About the civilian experts . . .”

“I think we can trust them, Admiral,” Charban joked, then noticed Geary’s reaction. “Are you concerned about that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been picking up some different impressions from them lately. Those I contact regularly I mean. I rarely deal directly with any of them but Dr. Setin and Dr. Shwartz now.”

“I see.” Charban relaxed in his seat again. “I’ve been working with all of them. You know there have always been three factions among our civilian experts? One small faction was convinced before we met a single alien intelligence that it would be a fight to the death between our species. Remarkably, that faction sees everything we’ve learned as supporting that argument. Another small faction started out believing that the universe would greet us with open arms of peace and friendship. They also remain unshaken in their position, blaming any contact problems on our own blunders.”

“The blunders of the military, you mean,” Geary said dryly.

“Of course. Then there’s the biggest faction, who to varying degrees like to wait to see the evidence before they decide what the evidence means. I’ve been frankly surprised to see so many of that sort with us, but that is due, I think, to the efforts of Dr. Setin in influencing who accompanied us.” Charban fell silent for a moment. “That group was badly shaken by the enigmas and the bear-cows. The evidence seemed to support the crowd that claimed the universe hates us. The discovery and interaction with the spider-wolves has been incredibly important in restoring their faith in the universe and in this mission.”

“You believe everything is all right there, then? There’s nothing I need to worry about?”

“I didn’t say that, Admiral.” Charban’s smile held no humor. “Soon after we return to Alliance space, academic and popular journals will be full of articles penned by our experts in which they will describe how very badly the military and some of the other civilian experts handled just about everything, and how only the presence of the authors of said articles prevented total and complete disaster.”

“I see that academia hasn’t changed in the last century,” Geary said.

“No. Of course not.” Charban thought, his eyes on the star display. “Dr. Setin has been one of your strongest supports among the civilians experts. But he was badly shaken by the slaughter aboard that bear-cow superbattleship. I think he understands that you had no choice but to order such an action, and that we did all we could to get the bear-cow crew to surrender rather than fight to the death, but, emotionally, he has had great difficulty with those events. Still, he’s a good man with a good mind. I believe he will come around.”

“And Dr. Shwartz?”

“You have no firmer ally among them, Admiral. You have given her not one, not two, but three intelligent nonhuman species to study. The circumstances involving some of those meetings haven’t been what we wished, but Dr. Shwartz is that rare sort of academic who realizes the difference between the universe in which theories live and the universe as it really exists.”

“Thank you, General,” Geary said. “Please go now and let your metabolism wind down so you can rest.”

The next three and a half days in jump space were quiet. Geary noticed that Desjani kept her crew working but also allowed an unusually large amount of downtime, so everyone could take a break. He did his own best to relax despite gnawing worries about how close the enigmas were to Midway and whether or not the spider-wolves might yet decide that humans were too unpredictable to make worthwhile friends or allies.

Geary was back on the bridge of
Dauntless
when the fleet popped out of jump into a star system that humans would have considered prime. Twelve planets orbiting a star whose nuclear furnace appeared as stable as stars got, one of those planets orbiting just under eight light-minutes from the star in the perfect zone for life as humans knew it, while two more planets swung around each other and the star at nine light-minutes out. Those planets were a bit cool and must have some impressive tidal effects, but were otherwise not bad at all. Off to one side and two light-hours away, what could only be a hypernet gate loomed.

“Nice,” Desjani approved, her eyes still searching for threats. The star system was filled with spider-wolf ships, all of which appeared to use the same beautifully streamlined shape but the vast majority of which were on paths indicating they were taking merchant ship–type tracks between planets.

Aside from the six spider-wolf warships accompanying the human fleet, only two other spider-wolf ships were at the jump point.

Geary shook his head. “We know they sent some ships ahead to tell them that we were coming, but still I expected some stronger force to be on guard here, even if disguised as an honor guard of some sort. Can you imagine letting a fleet of alien warships just waltz through your territory?”

“Don’t forget those stealthy megamines the spider-wolves had at Honor,” Desjani pointed out. “They might have stuff hidden around here that would make us really unhappy really fast if we did the wrong thing.”

“Your warning is noted and appreciated,” Geary replied. She was right. Just because he couldn’t see spider-wolf precautions didn’t mean there weren’t any. “Emissary Rione, General Charban, please contact our friends the spider-wolves and find out if we’re just supposed to transit directly to the hypernet gate.”

Virtual windows were appearing around Geary. Dr. Setin, Lieutenant Iger, Captain Smythe . . . all begging for an extended opportunity to examine everything that could be learned in this spider-wolf-occupied star system. Geary cut them all off, grateful again for the fleet commander override, then answered everyone at once. “We are contacting the spider-wolves to ask them what path we should follow through this star system. We will have to abide by their wishes. Every sensor in this fleet, every means of collection, is sucking up every bit of data it possibly can, and we will continue to vacuum up information as long as we are in this star system. That’s all I can promise.”

Desjani pointed to her display. “Our escorts are heading for the gate. Do we follow?”

“Yes.” It might take the emissaries a while to reestablish contact, so he had best stick to the safest course until then. Geary brought the fleet around in the wake of the six spider-wolf ships, grateful to see how smoothly even the four battleships linked to the captured bear-cow ship carried out the maneuver.

“They’re watching us, too, you know,” Desjani commented, as the fleet steadied out on a vector following the spider-wolf escort.

“I know.” He was watching the two spider-wolf ships that had met them here. Without warning, both of those ships accelerated into the human formation, gliding and weaving between human ships with the grace and ease of dolphins racing through an underwater obstacle course.

“They’re heading for the LCCO,” Desjani said, her voice tense.

“The LCCO?”

“Large Clumsy Captured Object.”

“The Kick superbattleship,” Geary realized. He hit his comm controls. “All units, this is Admiral Geary, do not interfere with or engage any spider-wolf ships. No weapons use is authorized except by my direct order. Do not lock fire control systems on any spider-wolf craft.”

The two spider-wolf ships slowed, coming almost to a stop relative to the superbattleship and the four Alliance battleships towing it, even though all of those ships were traveling through space at point one light speed. Moving with almost dainty precision, the spider-wolf ships split up, coursing along close above the hull of the former Kick ship in a long and careful examination that was still under way when Rione called Geary.

“The spider-wolves want permission to send someone aboard the captured bear-cow ship.”

THIRTEEN

GEARY
glared at Rione. “Are you certain they just want to visit? They don’t want to take control of it, or take things off it?”

“I am certain, Admiral. They want to look around.”

Desjani was looking upward, pretending not to have heard. Well, this was entirely up to him. “All right. Tell them they can send some teams aboard,” Geary told Rione before tapping another control. “Admiral Lagemann, are you prepared for visitors?”

It took another half an hour before one of the spider-wolf ships slipped next to one of the air locks human engineers had installed where the Marines had blasted their way inside the bear-cow superbattleship. By then, a reception committee was waiting, including Admiral Lagemann, the senior Marine aboard the captured ship, and some of the engineers in the prize crew. Even though all of the humans were in survival suits or battle armor, and the spider-wolves were themselves encased in their own armor, the spider-wolves still offered greetings that consisted of cautious “air hugs” that avoided actual physical contact with the humans.

Looking over the human party, Geary saw one of them identified as Lieutenant Jamenson, though, of course, he couldn’t see her bright green hair under her survival-suit helmet.

He called the head engineer on
Tanuki
. “Captain Smythe, I thought Lieutenant Jamenson was on
Orion
.”

“She was, Admiral. I directed her to do an individual movement between ships so she could be part of the welcoming committee.”

“Why?”

Smythe grinned. “First of all, to see how the spider-wolves would react to a human whose physical appearance doesn’t fit the, uh, pattern that they are used to. That will only work if they go into an area where Lieutenant Jamenson can remove her helmet, of course. But it also occurred to me that Lieutenant Jamenson’s particular talents might be useful as she watched the spider-wolves in action. Perhaps she’ll see something the rest of us miss.”

“Two inspired ideas, Captain. Thank you.”

Desjani looked skeptical. “That’s the lieutenant who confuses things, right? I mean, on purpose she can confuse things.”

“Right,” Geary confirmed.

“And this helps with the spider-wolves how?”

“It’s the flip side of that which could prove useful,” Geary explained. “Lieutenant Jamenson can also spot information that is related but buried among lots of other data.”

“You mean like patterns?”

“Sort of.”

“Maybe she is a good choice, then.” Desjani settled back in her seat, touching her internal comm controls as she did so. “We have a little more than nineteen hours of travel time to the hypernet gate,” she told her crew. “Let’s get cracking on external hull work.”

THE
spider-wolves spent six hours aboard the captured bear-cow warship, focusing attention on areas like the control and engineering spaces while the human fleet focused their attention on what the spider-wolves were examining. Lieutenant Jamenson did get the opportunity to open her helmet at one point, but if her green hair surprised the spider-wolves as much as it did the average human, no one could tell.

Data poured in from fleet sensors examining the inhabited worlds. Grateful that he didn’t have to analyze threat activity, Geary left most of that to the civilian experts and Lieutenant Iger’s intelligence people. Occasionally, he would view areas of the planets that had come into view of the fleet’s full-spectrum sensors, seeing cities and towns that spread widely and seemed thinly occupied by human standards. The spider-wolves had plenty of population here, but they must prefer spreading out rather than concentrating into dense urban centers. Unlike in the bear-cow star system, the planets here had a wide variety of vegetation and a lot of it even within the spider-wolf cities.

Four hours after the spider-wolf team had left the captured bear-cow ship to another round of air hugs and with ten hours remaining before the human fleet reached the hypernet gate, Rione called Geary in his stateroom. “I need to brief you on a few things.”

“All right. Go ahead.”

“In person.”

He sighed. Late at night. Rione in his cabin. Admiral Timbale had warned him that people would be watching for any signs of unprofessional behavior by either him or Desjani. “Madam Emissary—”

“Commander Benan can escort me.” She said it ironically, as if they were sharing a joke.

Naturally Commander Benan, her husband, wouldn’t be thrilled by this, either. “All right,” Geary said.

She showed up in only a few minutes, Commander Benan walking stiffly beside her as she entered. Once inside, he looked around, narrowed-eyed as if searching for dangers, then saluted with a rigid arm before pivoting and walking out of the stateroom to stand by the hatch as it closed.

Geary waited until the hatch had sealed before speaking. “How is he doing?”

“Better since that talk you had with him.”

“At least now we know what the root of his problem is and at least now I know how you’re being blackmailed.”

She didn’t answer for a while. “Without confirming the last part of your statement, it’s unfortunate that neither piece of information offers much in the way of immediate benefit,” Rione finally said.

“Yes. You’re right about that. But you say Commander Benan is more stable now?”

“I said he was better.” Rione walked to a chair and sat down, her gaze now on the star display. “More stable? A little. He’s still dangerous.”

“Be careful.”

“I’m always careful. Let me inform you of things I have learned from conversations with some of the spider-wolves while General Charban and the civilian experts talked with others.”

Geary sat down opposite her. “Were you talking to the one in charge? How senior in rank are the spider-wolves who have been talking to us?” The question had kept occurring to him but never when he was speaking to anyone who could answer it.

“I don’t know. We don’t know.” Rione spread her hands, palms up. “Whatever organizational structure the spider-wolves use is too complicated or too odd for us to grasp as of yet. One of those experts, that Dr. Shwartz, thinks the organizational diagram itself may resemble a web. She could be right. Whatever way they are arranged in rank, we haven’t been able to figure it out even though it seems clear enough to the spider-wolves.

“Now, there are things I have been told that you must know. I do not know how much of this should be known to others in this fleet, which is why I am briefing you in this manner.” Rione spoke briskly but matter-of-factly. “First off, the spider-wolves have informed me in a manner that cannot be misunderstood that when we encounter enigmas, they will not aid in any attack on the enigmas; nor will they help defend us against the enigmas. They will defend themselves, but they will not otherwise engage in hostilities.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Absolutely. We’re on our own when it comes to hostilities with the enigmas.”

“Has General Charban discussed with you his feelings about the spider-wolves and war?”

“Yes.” Rione shook her head. “It’s a possible explanation, but we don’t know it’s true. All I know is that they will not fight the enigmas except to save themselves.”

“At least they told us,” Geary said. “Do you think there might be a nonaggression pact between the enigmas and the spider-wolves?”

She started to reply, stopped as a thought hit her, then gave him a slight smile. “Because if there were such an agreement between the enigmas and another species, it might hold out hope that we could reach such a pact with the enigmas?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. I’ll see what I can find out.” Rione tapped the controls on the star display, leaning in as she did so that she was close to Geary.

Even though they didn’t touch, he felt her closeness, memories coming unbidden of times they had been together in this stateroom before he and Tanya had known their own feelings for each other.

He gave Rione no sign that he had felt that, remembered those things, and she also did not react at all, her voice remaining composed and unemotional. “We’re going to come out of the spider-wolf hypernet at this star. It has a human designation but no name. The Syndics didn’t get that far when they were pushing into that region more than a century ago. From that star we will jump a short distance to this star. Again, no name from human sources, but when the spider-wolves spoke of it, they used the same symbol as they used for the star Honor even though this is a different type of star.”

Geary looked steadily at the display as he thought. “A symbol, a label, not for the star type, but for something else? They had a defensive force at Honor, guarding against the bear-cows. Does that star serve a similar purpose against the enigmas? That symbol might mean fortress or stronghold, or something like that.”

“It might.” Rione pointed again. “From that star, we jump to this one, which the Syndics named Hua and may have reached before the enigmas knocked them back to Midway. I don’t think the Syndics got that far, though, because the spider-wolves indicated that Hua is an enigma strongpoint of some kind. They signified some danger there.”

“Hopefully not an enigma hypernet gate,” Geary said. “I don’t want to have to run that kind of gauntlet again.” His own hand went out, tracing a path on the display. “And Hua is within jump range of Pele.”

“And from Pele we get to Midway,” Rione finished.

“Thank you. That’s all very important—”

“There’s one thing more.” She held out her data pad, revealing that it was displaying the symbol used by Syndicate Worlds’ ships to identify themselves. “I showed this to the spider-wolves I was talking to. They recognized it.”

Geary stared at the symbol. “You’re sure?”

“They told me they recognized it.”

“They spider-wolves know about the Syndics? They’ve had contact with the Syndicate Worlds?”

“I don’t think so. I think the Syndics are just as oblivious to the existence of the spider-wolves as we were. But here is the thing, Admiral. I asked them what this symbol represented, and they used the symbols for ‘enemy of your people.’”

“How could they—” Geary’s stare shifted to Rione. “The border with the Alliance is a very long distance from here. There haven’t been any Alliance ships in the region of Syndic space nearest here for at least a century except for our fleet. There certainly haven’t been any battles fought anywhere near that region. How the hell could they know that we were fighting a war with the Syndics?”

“That’s a very good question, Admiral.” Rione rested her chin on one hand, looking pensive. “We have learned that the enigmas had been spying on us long before we knew the enigmas existed. Perhaps . . .”

“The spider-wolves have been in Alliance space?” He forced himself to consider the idea.

“The enigmas planted worms in our sensor systems that hid them from us,” Rione said. “Could the spider-wolves have done the same?”

“If they have, they’re using yet another totally different principle. We’ve scrubbed those systems using everything we could dream up and found nothing else.”

“Have you ever heard of something like a spider-wolf ship being spotted in Alliance space?”

He searched his memory, finding nothing specific. “There are always false sightings. We call them that. Sensors say there’s something there. We take another look, and maybe that next look doesn’t see anything. Or we send a ship to investigate. Sometimes it finds something that was just hard to spot.” That had been how the Alliance fleet had found him, frozen in survival sleep in a damaged escape pod, its beacon inoperative and its power levels failing, so low they barely showed up on the latest fleet sensors. If they hadn’t spotted him then, if they hadn’t recognized that this wasn’t just another piece of lifeless debris, if a destroyer hadn’t taken a good look around and found him . . . Geary tried to banish the memory of the ice that had once filled him. “Usually, most of the time, whatever gets sent to investigate finds nothing. That’s called a false sighting.”

“What causes them?” Rione asked.

“Every system has glitches. Gremlins. Loose electrons. The name varies, but it means that something that isn’t there shows up as being there, or something that isn’t happening shows as happening, or something sticks where nothing should be able to stick. The same sort of tick that impacts everything that uses electronics and coding. That’s why we have human overrides on all of our systems.”

She nodded. “I did a little research before coming down here. There have been examples of such ‘false sightings’ all through human history, dating back to Old Earth. Most were easily explained. The others were dismissed. But if we knew such things happened, then it would too easily explain events that might not all actually be the result of glitches or gremlins. If the spider-wolves have decent stealth technology—”

“They have excellent stealth technology.” He thought of the mines at Honor.

“Then, Admiral, we must conclude the real possibility that while humanity tended to its own issues and bemoaned a universe empty of other minds like ours, more than one set of such minds may have been snooping around to learn what they could of us.”

He dug his palms into his eyes. “But why wouldn’t the spider-wolves have contacted us? We know why the enigmas didn’t. Why not the spider-wolves?”