Boundless Page 10

  Baxter nodded. “If Black Jack gives an order, and we give an order, guess which one will be obeyed? And every order we give will be assumed to have been run by you for approval. That’s not healthy.”

  “I agree with you,” Geary said. “So does the Senate. You’ve seen that my orders will take me a very long ways from the Alliance for a while.”

  “The farther the better,” Admiral Baxter said. “How soon can you leave Unity?”

  “That’s up to the Senate.”

  “True,” Admiral Rojo said. “But once they release you, how long before you can depart Alliance space?”

  “The ships I sent back to Varandal have a lot of combat damage to repair,” Geary said, pausing to let that sink in and seeing both Baxter and Rojo look uncomfortable as a result. “And the crews deserve a break. I can’t give you a firm departure date until I get back to Varandal and see the status of my ships and the ongoing repairs. I’m just as eager to leave Unity as you are to see me leave. But I have to finish with everything here, off-loading all of the people and materiel we brought from Unity Alternate to trusted agents appointed by the Senate. As soon as that’s done I hope to take Mistral along with Dauntless and head back to Varandal.” He saw not-quite-suppressed reactions from Rojo and Baxter. “You’ve already tried to redirect Mistral and the Marines aboard her, haven’t you?”

  “You inspire a lot of loyalty,” Admiral Rojo said in a sour voice.

  “Commander Young and Colonel Rico both know about the Senate’s orders,” Geary said.

  Admiral Baxter leaned forward again, eyeing Geary. “These aliens. The Dancers. What do they want?”

  “I don’t know,” Geary said. “They clearly see us as allies, but to what larger purpose remains uncertain. That’s one of the reasons I’m being sent out there again, as you can see from my orders. We need a more permanent presence among the Dancers to try to get a better handle on how they think and what they expect from us.”

  “Then I’ll wish you success on that errand, at least,” Baxter said, his smile firmly in place. “Better that you deal with them than me having to get involved. How do you stand it?”

  “Are you talking about their appearance?” Geary said, feeling as defensive as if someone had trash-talked a friend of his. “I think the key lies in seeing who the Dancers are, not what they look like.”

  “If you say so,” Baxter said in the manner of someone not choosing to continue an argument rather than that of someone in agreement. “By the way, in terms of cleaning things up, some accountants here in headquarters want to go over your past expenditures.”

  Admiral Rojo nodded. “There’re some questions about whether all of them were, um, handled appropriately.”

  Geary couldn’t help smiling in return at the renewed oh-by-the-way attack. They’d apparently been honest when telling him one of the things leading to Rojo’s and Baxter’s willingness to cooperate was a mutual desire to trip him up. “I assure you, all expenditures were legal.” He’d made sure of that, even while shuffling money around to provide enough funds for maintaining his ships. The trick had been to keep headquarters from figuring out how he was doing it so they wouldn’t cut off those sources of funds before he’d pulled everything he could out of them. “I’ll have Lieutenant Jamenson contact your accountants to discuss any questions they have.” He hoped he’d have time to listen in to that discussion. Lieutenant Jamenson’s unique skill, to render things as confusing as possible while still being technically correct, would face perhaps its greatest test at the hands of Fleet Headquarters’ accountants. But having read (or tried to read) some of Jamenson’s work, Geary had no doubt who would emerge victorious.

  “A lieutenant?” Rojo asked, clearly skeptical. “Does this lieutenant have the experience necessary to answer every question the fleet accountants have?”

  “I guarantee that she does,” Geary said, trying not to smile at the joke neither Baxter nor Rojo yet understood. “I assure you that Lieutenant Jamenson is perfectly matched to the needs of this issue.” Perfectly matched from his perspective, anyway.

  “All right, then,” Baxter said, standing. “Since we understand each other, I think it’s time for some morale boosting.”

  Admiral Rojo stood as well, grimacing. “In case you didn’t feel it on the way in,” she said to Geary, “morale at headquarters is lower than the stomach of a chief passed out facedown in a deep ditch on liberty. The revelations from Unity Alternate hit everyone hard.”

  “They’ve been doing their jobs,” Admiral Baxter said. “Thinking they were good guys helping to beat the enemies of the Alliance. Right now, they feel like people see them as enemies of the Alliance because they’ve been tarred by the actions of others.”

  Geary stood up, his guts tight with unhappiness. “I did feel it. They need to be told they are still seen as good guys.”

  “It has to come from you,” Rojo said. “The guy who brought down the truth from the heavens. If you say it, they’ll believe it.”

  “I’ll have no problem saying it.” Geary checked his uniform, wanting to look his best out of respect for the sailors they’d be talking to. He and the other two admirals left the office, Captain Romano joining them but staying a little behind as they walked, and a couple of other captains who must be aides to Baxter and Rojo joining the procession.

  It took a long time, going through each floor of the vast building. They couldn’t go everywhere, not in a single day, but with a lot of working spaces off-limits many of headquarters’ personnel were gathered in large halls and conference rooms, which made it easier to see large groups all at once.

  He’d done this before, reassuring worried and weary sailors that their efforts had been outstanding and that hope still lived. Geary repeated “I know you’ll keep doing your best” and “the Alliance needs people like you” so many times he had to be careful to say each word rather than run them all together. Rojo and Baxter stayed only slightly back, clearly indicating they were with the great Black Jack and that he regarded them as with him as well. Despite his reservations about Admiral Rojo and Admiral Baxter, Geary knew how important it was for the sailors to have confidence in their leaders. In private, they could look daggers at each other and utter veiled threats. Here, in front of the men and women who looked to them for leadership, the three admirals did their best to look and act like a team with shared goals and beliefs.

  In one way, it was exhausting. In other ways, being able to meet so many women and men who’d dedicated themselves to serving something bigger than themselves brought Geary the hope and energy that he was trying to give them.

  One conference room had guards at the door. Inside was a group of officers who looked as if they were waiting for a firing squad to be assembled to carry out sentences on them.

  “They were involved with Brass Prince,” Rojo told Geary.

  “We were told it was an authorized program!” one officer cried, her voice breaking. “We just shuffled money and personnel!”

  “As far as we can tell,” Admiral Baxter said, “those in here handled administrative matters and weren’t aware of what Brass Prince was doing. But they’re being specially screened to be certain of that. If they didn’t have any way of knowing Brass Prince was an outlaw program engaged in actions contrary to Alliance law, they’ll be all right,” he added, raising his voice so everyone in the room could hear it.

  “Did any of you ever encounter an officer named Paol Benan?” Geary asked.

  The officers looked at each other, shaking their heads. All except for one, who frowned in thought. “I think I saw orders for someone of that name, sir. But that was a long time ago. Years.”

  “Have any of you heard of mind blocks? For security reasons?”

  Blank faces looked back at him, except for two officers who looked appalled. “Those are illegal, Admiral. I would’ve reported that!”

  “Good.” H
e had no reason to think these officers had known what was being done under cover of layers of secrecy. They’d been pawns, told the program was legal but not enough about it to question whether it really was legal. And those who’d actually run the program, circumventing the law, would be happy if they could sacrifice these pawns to save themselves. “As Admiral Baxter says, this isn’t about finding scapegoats. It’s about finding those who knew the program was illegal, and bringing them to account. If you can assist with that in any way, please do so. If you did your duty and didn’t know what else was going on through no fault of your own, you have nothing to fear.”

  There’d been skepticism when Baxter said it, but in response to Geary’s words the mood in the room shifted dramatically and even a few smiles of relief appeared. They believed him. Like so many others, they believed in him. Sometimes he could almost forget the burden of that, but other times it felt crushing. Because he wasn’t perfect, he couldn’t do everything, he couldn’t even be certain the words he just spoke would turn out to be true.

  Once again, he had to hope that John Geary wouldn’t let down the people who believed in Black Jack.

  By the time he reached the entry area again, darkness had fallen outside. A ground forces general was waiting, not bothering to hide his relief when Geary appeared. “I’m to escort you back, Admiral. The surrounding area has been swept four times while you were inside, but we still have extensive security in place.”

  “Including Marines?” Admiral Baxter asked.

  “Including Marines,” the general said, sounding resigned to their presence rather than happy about it.

  Outside, there were at least twice as many Marines as there had been this morning, forming solid walls that left only a one-meter-wide path between them. Anyone trying to get a shot at Geary would have a hard time even seeing him.

  “May your actions honor your ancestors,” Admiral Rojo said, offering her hand to Geary.

  “As may yours,” he said, shaking Rojo’s hand and then Baxter’s.

  The general rushed Geary down the narrow path and into another armored limo, other armored limos before and behind it as escorts. After they were inside and the vehicle surged into motion, Geary focused on the general. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Sorry. It’s Wallach. I’ve got command of defense for this sector.” He exhaled heavily. “A job which you’ve really complicated. No offense.”

  “None taken. How’s morale in the ground forces?”

  Wallach smiled crookedly. “It’s been better, and it’s been worse. Funny thing, the fleet officers behind those illegal programs and the politicians in the Senate backing them apparently didn’t trust the ground forces to play in their super-secret sandbox. That means our hands are pretty clean. I guess interservice politics isn’t always bad.”

  “I guess not,” Geary said, seeing the irony in that. “Are there any updates on General Carabali?”

  “She’s out of danger,” General Wallach said. “But she’s in a med coma to speed healing, so you can’t talk to her. I’m to get you back to the Senate building in one piece.”

  Geary slumped back, feeling totally worn out. “I was hoping I could take a shuttle back into orbit.”

  “Not yet, hero.” Wallach grinned sympathetically. “But hopefully you will get a decent night’s sleep.”

  * * *

  A few hours later, General Wallach’s prediction was rudely broken along with Geary’s exhausted slumber by loud pounding on his door. Blinking sleep from his eyes and trying to clear his head, Geary checked the security screen and saw Senator Unruh outside.

  He opened the door, knowing he looked like hell warmed over. “Am I right that it’s 0200 here?”

  “Close. It’s 0204,” Senator Unruh said. “This can’t wait. Admiral, you need to get out of here.”

  “What? I’m being moved to another building?”

  “You need to get off the planet, Admiral! As quickly as possible!”

  FIVE

  GEARY, surprised and still trying to get fully awake, looked past Senator Unruh, seeing an otherwise deserted hallway. “What happened?”

  “Nothing has happened, yet. But support is building for a Senate vote requiring you to stay here at Unity until all matters pertaining to Unity Alternate are settled.”

  “All matters?”

  “Every legal proceeding,” Senator Unruh said.

  Geary stared at her. “That’d be years.”

  “More likely decades. It’s a safe vote, you see. Alliance law requires a defendant to be able to confront their accuser. So it seems very fair to have you here to personally testify.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not the accuser, am I?”

  “No, you’re not.” Unruh clenched one fist and looked like she was ready to hit the door frame out of frustration. “All you did was bring the evidence here. The evidence is what forms the basis for accusations that will be brought by prosecutors. But keeping you here would keep attention focused on you, and on process rather than truth. It would also tempt you to overreach, and probably doom our plans for missions to both Midway and into Dancer space. We’re going to stall, but you need to get yourself out of this star system. If you’re gone when the vote is taken, it will have no force since the conditions specified in it no longer exist. Take your ship, and head back to Varandal. I promise I will send the other ship, and all your people aboard it, after you as soon as everything has been properly checked and off-loaded to ensure a clean chain of evidence.”

  “Won’t the Senate just order me back here?” Geary protested.

  “No.” Unruh seemed absolutely certain. “Much of the support is being bought by knowing they can argue to the public that you’re already here, so keeping you here is no hardship. If you’re gone, to carry out missions for the Senate, then it’d be a matter of stopping those missions to recall you. That’s a roadblock that should eliminate any chance of majority support for that vote. I’ve got a vehicle coming and my people are alerting the shuttle you came in. Get out of here.”

  He was in another armored limo, a rumpled and cross General Wallach sitting across from him, before Geary had time or leisure to think things through. “Won’t this look like I’m running away in the night?”

  “You?” Wallach said with a snort, followed by a yawn. “Excuse me. No, it’ll look like you wanted to avoid any more danger to the good people of Unity caused by your presence. By leaving this way, having done everything you wanted to, you ensured no further attacks would mar the peace of the city.”

  “People will believe that?” Geary said.

  “About you? Yeah. If I did it, I’d have rumors chasing me all the way back to Old Earth. But Black Jack? He’s thinking of what’s best for the Alliance.”

  It was hard to tell what Wallach felt about all that.

  “Thank you for your efforts,” Geary finally said. “I appreciate how difficult things have been the last couple of days.”

  “That’s okay.” Wallach actually smiled. “My kids couldn’t believe I’d talked to Black Jack. In person! You’ve made me cool in the eyes of my teenage kids.” He laughed. “Maybe you can do miracles!”

  The limo passed through several extremely alert security checkpoints before gliding onto the landing field. It didn’t stop until the door was right next to the lowered loading ramp of the shuttle. Geary paused before getting out. “Could you do me a favor, General? I’d like to get updates on General Carabali as long as my ship is still in this star system.”

  “No problem,” Wallach said. He gazed steadily at Geary. “Look, I don’t know what’s myth and what’s real when it comes to you, except that for most of their lives I expected my kids would end up fighting and maybe dying in the same war I fought and their grandparents fought. But you ended that war. What we’ve got now isn’t a peaceful utopia, but it’s a lot better than that. Thanks.”

&nbs
p; “You’re welcome,” Geary said, embarrassed. He nodded and got out, finding Gunny Orvis and Master Chief Gioninni waiting. Together, the three of them walked quickly up the ramp, the limo accelerating away from the shuttle.

  The ramp came up almost on their heels. Geary had barely strapped into his seat before the shuttle lifted and soared toward the stars.

  * * *

  AS he walked off the shuttle onto Dauntless once more, Geary saw the hangar crew racing to fasten down the shuttle. Senior Chief Tarrani was waiting with a welcoming salute and a warning. “Better grab a handhold, Admiral,” she warned. “The captain’s in a hurry.”

  Geary felt thrusters firing and latched one hand onto the nearest hold. “I assume Senator Unruh spoke with Captain Desjani?”

  “That’s my understanding, sir,” Tarrani said. “Hey, Gioninni, grab on, you dumb boot camp.”

  “Who you callin’ boot camp?” Gioninni demanded as he gripped another hold. “I was sailing space while you were still learning to walk.”

  Tarrani’s answer was forestalled as Dauntless’s main propulsion kicked in hard, hurling the battle cruiser out of orbit and on a vector toward the hypernet gate. Geary had to hold on tightly as inertial forces leaked past the dampers, which protested the rate of acceleration with high-pitched whines that filled the whole ship.

  “I’m guessing Captain Desjani is at the helm?” Gunny Orvis asked Tarrani.

  “You can tell, can’t you?” Tarrani grinned. “Someone has to show these rear-area slackers how it’s done right.”

  Moving his arm carefully against the acceleration, Geary reached up to touch a comm panel on the bulkhead near him. “Put me through to Commander Young on Mistral. Senior Chief, what’s ship time?”

  “It’s 1400 for us, Admiral,” Tarrani said.