The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Leviathan (7 page)

After only a couple of minutes, another ground forces soldier appeared. The soldier advanced with open hands held out, then popped his face shield when close to Geary. “Colonel Kochte, commander of the ground forces with primary responsibility for defense of Ambaru,” he introduced himself.

“Are we good, Colonel?” Geary asked.

“I’m not moving my people until we get things cleared up, Admiral. Our systems are a mess,” Kochte complained. “The problems seem to be spreading throughout Ambaru and the star system.”

“You’ve got official software fighting official software,” Geary said. “I provided Major Problem with software patches that will fix the problems.”

“Yes, sir, but with all due respect, since you’re not in my chain of command, and as far as we can determine the patches are not officially approved or authorized, that creates some other problems for me.”

“Colonel, I want to ensure that no Alliance troops end up shooting at each other because of the problems with the software on this station and their battle armor.”

“We are in agreement with that, sir.” Kochte hesitated. “Admiral, if this was some Syndic sabotage, I could act immediately.”

Geary considered that. “I cannot rule out Syndic involvement in one way or another. I don’t know with absolute certainty who has been creating this problem.”

Kochte smiled. “Then I can have those patches installed, based on your assurances that they are necessary to the defense of this station.”

“They definitely are necessary, Colonel. I understand in their current configurations, your battle-armor systems are designating Alliance Marines as hostile forces.”

“And the Marines are not. Or they shouldn’t be.” Colonel Kochte looked at Geary. “Admiral, since you got back, it has looked like you and your ships were doing some sort of fleet mime game, pretending you were fighting something that wasn’t there. But our systems spotted damage occurring to some of your ships even though there was no indication of anything firing at them. Does this have anything to do with any of the aliens?”

“I don’t think so, Colonel.” He couldn’t rule it out, of course. Maybe the enigmas had figured out a different way to mess with humanity. But he had no evidence for that, and substantial evidence in the other direction. “I suspect this is purely human mischief, but by whom I do not yet have sufficient information.”

The colonel’s eyes went to the two officials standing stiffly with Marine rifles held in ways that covered any movement they might make. “Who are they, sir, if I may ask?”

“I don’t know. They thought they could give me orders.”

Kochte looked uncertain again. “Is it happening, Admiral? They said you wouldn’t.”

“Happening?” The meaning of the question hit Geary. “Do you mean am I moving against the government? No. I am acting lawfully, dealing with threats to my forces and to the Alliance. I am still trying to sort out who is behind this. Even if these two are legitimate, which I
think is far from a settled question, I do not think the government really understands what has happened, that layers and layers of secrecy have kept too many people in the dark about what I suspect was actually going on, and that too many other people have used secrecy as a way of avoiding having their actions questioned. I am not moving against the government. I am still trying my best to defend the Alliance.”

“But if those two really are from the government—”

“I know what they claim. I don’t know who they are, and I don’t know where they are from,” Geary said. “Do you recognize them?”

“No, sir.” The colonel took a deep breath. “I do know I still haven’t been able to get comms with my general. Therefore, I am placing my forces under your command as senior officer present. What exactly are we doing?”

“Making sure no Alliance soldiers trade fire with Alliance Marines. I’ll stand down my Marines. You do the same with your soldiers as fast as you can get those software patches loaded. After that, our priorities are to get Ambaru Station working again, find Admiral Timbale, make sure Varandal Star System is ready to defend against any Syndic retaliatory raids—”

“Syndic—?” Colonel Kochte again looked at the two officials standing stiffly to one side. “Retaliation for what? Something they did?”

“Something they’re involved with,” Geary said. “They may not even know about it even though they’ve been helping to make it occur.”

“Ancestors. What the hell happened?”

“A century of war. I keep discovering more people who seem to have learned all of the wrong lessons from it.”

—

“HE’S
in there,” the Marine sergeant declared confidently as he worked on a panel next to the hatch for Admiral Timbale’s private quarters. “There’s some kind of override on the security software that is locking him inside and blocking comms in or out.”

“How long until you can get it open?” Geary asked. He was acutely aware of the fully armored Marines still escorting him around, but for once he did not object to the presence of such bodyguards. The discovery of the two apparently innocuous agents hidden among the population of Ambaru had rattled him enough to submerge his usual concerns about seeming too obsessed with his personal security.

“Another minute or so,” the sergeant declared confidently. Something went
snick
, and a row of lights inside the panel changed from red and orange to green. “Or less.”

The hatch opened slowly, as if still reluctant to free the occupant of the quarters. Admiral Timbale was indeed inside, looking furious enough to eat his way through the armored bulkhead. “Admiral Geary. Thank you.”

Timbale’s voice sounded slightly strangled from both his anger and the humiliation of having to be freed from his own quarters. “I should have guessed you’d be the one to get things under control. If the Syndics think they can—”

“I don’t think it’s the Syndics,” Geary said. He turned to the Marines and gestured for them to withdraw down the passageway, so he could talk to Timbale with a small measure of privacy.

“Have you seen them?” Timbale asked. “Two people in civilian suits. They claimed to have authority from our government.”

“I’ve seen them. I’ve got them,” Geary said, displaying a picture upon his comm pad. “These two?”

“They said they had authority to override fleet command structures!” Timbale seethed. “I had never even seen them before. Why wouldn’t I have been told if someone like that was on a station under my command? When I insisted on verification, they left to allegedly get it, and I found myself locked into my own quarters with all forms of comms cut off. I don’t care what authority they claim to have. I don’t even care whether or not they are Syndics! I won’t tolerate being treated like one of the enemy!”

“How long have you been trapped in there?” Geary asked.

“A couple of days, I think. With all systems available to me frozen or off-line, I can’t be certain. What happened while I was in there? Did
Mortar
and
Serpentine
get clear?”

Geary took a moment to reply as he realized that he would have to deliver some very bad news. “No. They held their orbits.”

“You said there was a threat. Was there a threat?” Timbale demanded with worry growing in his voice.

“Yes,” Geary said, his own tone flat. “A serious threat. Due to malware in official software updates, both
Mortar
and
Serpentine
were destroyed without ever being able to see that threat.”

“Damn.” Timbale couldn’t say anything else for a moment, then began again, his voice now trembling with anger. “Any survivors?”

“Seventeen off
Serpentine
.”

“Seventeen,” Timbale repeated. “From the crews of two destroyers. Those two . . . agents. They’re the ones who kept me from sending new orders to
Mortar
and
Serpentine
. Is that right?”

“I believe so,” Geary said.

“Then I don’t care whatever they are or whoever they work for. I want them shot! Right now.”

“I understand why you want that,” Geary said. “But—”

“Dammit, Admiral, I have asked nothing of you for the support I have offered! This is clearly a war zone once more, and that means I have the authority to order those two to be shot without trial!”

Geary waited, looking back at Timbale’s face, which was distorted with rage. “Is that really what you want, Admiral? Those two might be able to tell us who gave them their orders.”

The light of reason and calculation reappeared in Timbale’s eyes. “Who gave them their orders? I do want to know that. Especially if it was someone supposedly from our side.”

“So do I,” Geary said. “I request permission to take them to a fleet warship for interrogation.”

“You—?” Timbale gazed back at him with suspicion. “Why a fleet warship? Why not here? We’ve got excellent interrogation facilities.”

“You told me that you didn’t even know those two agents were on this station,” Geary explained. “What if they have friends here as well? Friends who would keep them from talking by any means necessary?”

The rage was gone. Timbale wasn’t a screamer, the sort of commander who ruled by fear and intimidation, and now his native caution and control had reasserted itself. “Very good point, Admiral, though I’m surprised that you thought of it.”

Geary made an apologetic gesture. “I’ve been talking to Syndics. Former Syndics, that is, at Midway Star System.”

“They’d be good instructors for this sort of mess.”

“And I’ve spent a while around Victoria Rione,” Geary added.

Timbale actually mustered a cold smile. “She could probably teach the Syndics a few things.” The smile vanished. “Do you think Rione could be involved in this?”

“No.” Geary shook his head for emphasis. “I am certain that she is trying, in her own ways, to find out the same answers that we want, and for the same reasons.”

This time, Timbale nodded somberly. “Her husband. The people who messed up his head to block his ability to talk about that classified research program he was involved with might well be the same bastards behind this. The end justifies the means, and at some point they forget what the end was supposed to be, and the means justify themselves. And then you and your enemies have turned into two sides of the same coin.” He inhaled deeply and met Geary’s eyes. “You reminded me of that. You reminded a lot of us of that. Too bad some people didn’t listen. All right, Admiral. You have my permission to take those two prisoners to one of your ships for interrogation, on two conditions. One, I want to know what they tell you. And, two, I am not relinquishing my right as commander of fleet forces in this star system to order them shot at some future time.”

“Understood,” Geary said. “Many of your subordinates didn’t know you had been malware-exiled. They’re working now to get the station fully operational again using software patches my code monkeys are supplying. The ground forces assigned to Ambaru have placed themselves under fleet command until they manage to reestablish reliable comm links to the star system ground forces commander.”

“Good. People are thinking. I never assume that’s going to happen, so it’s always a pleasant surprise when it does.” Timbale took another long breath, composing himself. “It’s time for the boss to walk around so he can find out what’s going on, and so he can look like he knows what he’s doing. Damn.
Mortar
and
Serpentine
. This isn’t supposed to happen. We’re at peace.”

“Some people didn’t get the memo,” Geary said.

LIEUTENANT
Iger did not look happy. “Admiral, I am very uncomfortable with the idea of interrogating Alliance personnel whose identification materials appear completely authentic and who indicate security grounds for their actions.”

“I understand your concerns,” Geary said. He could just order Iger to do it anyway, but he had long ago learned that dramatically different results could come from someone’s pursuing a task willingly and enthusiastically as opposed to someone ordered to “do as you’re told or else.” “But no matter what their identification says, and no matter what they say, they were directly involved in actions that caused the destruction of Alliance warships, the death of fleet personnel, and attempts to corrupt the systems in the battle armor of our Marines.”

Iger nodded. “Yes, sir. There doesn’t seem any doubt of that.”

“So what we need to know, Lieutenant, is who those two are really working for. Isn’t there a term for someone who seems to be one of ours but is actually working for someone else?”

“A mole, Admiral.” Iger’s eyes narrowed in thought. “They could be
moles. The identification could be completely legitimate, they could be part of a covert Alliance agency, and they could still be plants working for the Syndics.”

“Exactly,” Geary said. “I need to know whose orders those two are really responding to, and I am certain that we are more than justified in wanting to know that answer given events in this star system as well as at Indras and Atalia.”

“Yes, sir.” But Iger hesitated once more. “Admiral, it is likely that they will refuse to cooperate with interrogation and refuse to reply to any questions. We can still learn some things by monitoring the reactions of their bodies and their brain patterns to specific questions, but we would not be able to identify their true superiors using something that vague.”

Geary considered the statement, wondering what Iger was driving at, then abruptly understood. “Do not take any actions contrary to good interrogation procedures, the laws of the Alliance, or fleet rules and regulations. I want accurate, actionable intelligence. And when the time comes, I want to be able to greet my ancestors knowing that I did not shame them.”

Iger nodded, a smile flitting across his face, then saluted. “Yes, sir. Me, too, Admiral. I will do my very best to get the answers you seek, sir.”

“I never doubted that,” Geary said.

As Iger left, Geary leaned back in his seat, grateful to be in his stateroom aboard
Dauntless
once more. His ships were gradually assuming assigned parking orbits and taking on new supplies. A message from Captain Smythe had provided a real picture of the readiness of his fleet, one which wasn’t nearly as good as could be hoped but wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Varandal’s defenses were now on alert, and the software patches were gradually being introduced throughout the star system to clean out at least some of the dangerous subroutines hidden in the mass of official software.

All of which left him in the unenviable position of trying to decide what to do next.

He called Desjani. “Tanya, who can we trust as a high-level courier and afford to spare?”

She was in her own stateroom, absorbed in the many and unending responsibilities of a ship’s commanding officer. Desjani looked back at him, rubbing her forehead with a resigned expression that implied she was also trying to deal with a few headaches. “Jane Geary,” she replied after several seconds.

“My grand-niece?” Geary grimaced as he considered the idea. “All of the battleships in her division are laid up in dock.
Dreadnaught
won’t be underway again for . . . five weeks.”

“Right. Long enough to use the hypernet to get to Unity and back.” Desjani shrugged. “Unless you’re planning to head off with part of the fleet—”

“I hope not.”

“Then Jane Geary won’t be needed to help hold things together here.”

“Will she be able to get to the right people?” Geary asked.

Tanya gave him one of those looks that told him he had said something that betrayed his lack of familiarity with how the universe worked a century after his supposed death. “She’s a Geary. Descended from Black Jack.”

“Descended from my brother,” Geary said.

“Close enough, since you didn’t have any children before the battle at Grendel. The point is, if Captain Jane Geary shows up and says, I need to talk to so-and-so, she’ll get to talk to so-and-so.”

“All right.” He looked away, thinking. “How much should I send?”

“Who are you sending it to?”

“Senator Navarro and Senator Sakai.”

“Navarro and Sakai?” Desjani gave him a doubtful look. “How much experience do we really have with Navarro?”

“I have seen him enough to have formed an impression,” Geary explained. “And Victoria Rione said he could be trusted.”

“Oh, well,” Desjani said archly, “if that woman vouched for Navarro, I guess that settles the issue.”

“Tanya—”

“Do you have any idea where she is?”

“She—? You mean Rione?” Geary asked. “No. Why?”

“Because you should send it to her, too.” Desjani smiled thinly at his expression. “Hey, I may not like her . . . actually, I definitely don’t like her . . . but I know she would get that information to places where it would do some good.”

“True,” Geary agreed. “But since I have no idea where she is, all I can do is authorize Jane Geary to pass Rione a copy if she runs into her.”

“That’s the best you can do,” Desjani said. “Now, as to how much to send? Send everything. Make it clear that absolutely nothing has been held back, that you are not keeping anything from them.”

“That’s good advice,” Geary said.

“Why, thank you, Admiral.” She lowered her forehead onto her palm, resting it there. “We’ve done the easy part. You know how hard the rest might be.”

“The rest of the dark ships?”

“Yeah.” Desjani raised her gaze to look into his eyes. “They’ve still got fourteen battle cruisers and twenty battleships, all superior in combat capability to ours. That’s not even taking into account the accumulated damage and wear and tear on our ships, whereas the dark ships are all shiny and new. I have no idea how to beat a force like that.”

“We have to hope that the rest of the dark ships haven’t slipped their leashes,” Geary said. “That they are still under control of humans who can shut them down.”

“If it’s a virus or other malware, not just glitches, the other dark ships could be just as badly infected.” Desjani rolled her eyes. “Crazy artificial intelligences. Driven mad by malware or just problems in programming that was too complex for anyone to really understand. How many horror movies have used that plot?”

Geary shook his head. “Apparently not enough. The government got convinced that this time the AIs couldn’t be corrupted or develop serious failures.”

“I used to think fleet headquarters had first call on idiots,” Desjani said, “but I have come to realize that the government must be requisitioning some of them. Aside from the ones that the citizens elect, that is.”

“Tanya, I know some of the men and women we’ve encountered in the government appear to have been born without any common sense and lost ground every year of their lives since, but if we start believing that as a rule the citizens can’t be trusted to elect their representatives, then we’ve stopped believing in the Alliance. We might as well change the name to the Syndicate Worlds and pass control to an unelected elite.”

She sighed heavily. “Doesn’t all that idealism ever make your hair hurt?”

“What?”

“Look, I understand. We all do. But it’s kind of hard to believe the way the Alliance is run reflects the best of all possible ways of doing things!”

“It doesn’t,” Geary admitted. “Somebody once said that allowing the citizens to vote on their government was the worst way of doing things, with the exception of every other way that humans have tried.”

“It’s the least-worst option?” Desjani asked. “That I can believe. Now, I’m going to use my dictatorial powers aboard
Dauntless
to get that package of material assembled for your courier. You need to put together an executive summary for it, though. Something with bright colors, explosions, and short words so our leaders don’t let their attention wander.”

After ending the call, Geary glumly turned to the task of trying to very quickly and very clearly explain what the mass of data he was sending meant.
First, a secret Alliance program is out of control, threatening the Alliance itself. It has already launched unprovoked attacks on
Alliance citizens and property. Second, the Syndics have threatened to start the war again because of the attack on Indras by elements of that secret Alliance program. Third, Atalia, a neutral star system, was savaged by the same elements of that secret Alliance program, which then launched an unprovoked attack on fleet units. Fourth, Atalia urgently requires humanitarian assistance. Fifth, software for critical, official systems is riddled with “features” that aid and allow intrusion and misuse, and place those critical systems in jeopardy of being unable to fulfill their functions. Sixth . . .

Sixth . . .

Dammit, why didn’t you place your trust in the citizens of the Alliance rather than in secrecy and technology?

—

THE
courier ship carrying Captain Jane Geary and multiple copies of Geary’s report on multiple backup systems departed through the hypernet gate three days later. “There have been a lot of civilian ships leaving since we got back,” Desjani commented, “but this should be the first official reporting of what has happened that gets to the government at Unity and fleet headquarters.”

“What have I done, Tanya?” Geary asked. “I’ve knocked over the first domino. How far and how wide will the reaction be?”

“You didn’t knock over the first domino,” she replied, giving him a crooked smile. “Whoever sent out those dark ships to hit Indras . . . no, whoever authorized the whole dark ship program . . . the war . . . there was a century of dominos falling in that war.” Her gaze on him shifted, becoming appraising. “Or maybe the first domino fell when you were the last person off
Merlon
a century ago, and your damaged escape pod put you into survival sleep, to be lost until the fleet found you on our way to Prime to try to beat the Syndics once and for all. Maybe that’s when this whole thing got put into motion.”

He made a scoffing sound. “You make it sound like a plan.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe the living stars knew that we’d need you, and for some reason that I admit I don’t understand, maybe they thought that we deserved being saved from our own follies.” Desjani smiled again. “And if that’s true, then you’ll figure out a way to stop the dark ships.”

Geary shook his head at her. “No pressure, huh? Tanya, right now I have no idea how to stop them.”

He looked back at the depiction of the hypernet gate, knowing that at any moment a fleet of dark ships might erupt from it, and wondering what he could do to lessen the disaster if that did happen.

—

CAPTAIN
Tulev’s battle cruisers arrived at the jump point from Atalia a few days later. His own ships battered in the fight with the dark ships at Atalia, Tulev had been left behind to assist damaged ships, pick up survivors of destroyed ships, and provide what pitifully small aid he could to the ravaged human cities in Atalia.

He had come aboard
Dauntless
to provide additional details because recent experience had only emphasized for them all that even the supposedly most secure forms of conferencing and communication were not truly safe from eavesdroppers. Geary had invited Desjani to attend the meeting in his stateroom as well, they sitting on the short couch together while Tulev occupied the chair opposite them. Tulev rarely displayed much emotion, but even he could not avoid occasional flashes of anger and distress as he reported in detail on the damage done to Atalia by the rogue dark ships. “The only good thing, and this only from the perspective of the Alliance, is that the people of Atalia are convinced that the dark ships must be Syndic in origin because they attacked us and we destroyed many of the dark ships in the subsequent fighting.”

“At least we finished off the dark ships that escaped from Atalia,” Geary told him.

“Yes. I regret missing that action.” Tulev paused, thoughts moving behind his eyes. “Can it be called vengeance when what was destroyed were only machines?”

“I derived some satisfaction from it,” Desjani said.

“But of course, Tanya. I would expect nothing else from you.” Tulev bent the corners of his mouth in the briefest of smiles at her.

“I’ll be even happier if I get to blow away the fools who thought building those dark ships was a good idea,” she added.

“This, too, I would expect of you,” Tulev said, then looked at Geary. “Do we have plans, Admiral?”

“I’m trying to get the fleet in the best possible state of readiness,” Geary replied. “I’ve sent a very detailed report on what happened at Indras, at Atalia, and here at Varandal, to the government and to fleet headquarters. They will realize that we have to do something. Hopefully, they can deactivate the surviving dark ships. If not . . .”

“It will be difficult,” Tulev observed with typical understatement. “My ships will be ready, Admiral.”

Desjani had been watching Tulev closely. “Is everything all right, Kostya?” she asked.

Tulev glanced at her. “Has everything ever been all right, Tanya?”

“Not in my memory.” She leaned forward a bit toward him. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me. Fought in a lot of battles, lost a lot of friends, seen a lot of things we’d rather forget having seen. I’m a little worried about what I think I’m seeing now. Is anything in particular wrong?”

This time Tulev took a few seconds to answer, his gaze distant, then he looked back at her, then at Geary. “I’m waiting for the war to end.”

Geary nodded. “I know that this peace feels a lot like a war at times.”

“That is not what I meant, Admiral.” Tulev frowned slightly, his eyes on the table before him. “I’m waiting for the war with the Syndicate Worlds to end. The war that destroyed my home, and so much else. A peace agreement was signed. Officially, the war is no more. But
that happened outside of me. Inside . . . the war remains. It still goes on. It doesn’t end. I don’t think it will ever end, in here.” He tapped his chest with one forefinger.