Impávido (70 page)

“Concern?” Every time to date that the Marine had been worried she had been proven justified. “I’ll talk to her in a minute. Ask the colonel to hold on.”

“Yes, sir.”

Geary sat up carefully, trying not to make noise.

“Did you actually think that didn’t wake me up?” Victoria Rione asked.

“Sorry.”

“I’ll have to get used to it, I suppose.”

Geary paused in his movements and looked over at her, seeing her lying on her back and gazing at him as calmly as if they had woken up together like this a thousand times before. “You want this to be long-term?”

Rione raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying you don’t?”

“No. I’m not saying that. I’d like to try it. I think long-term could make me…”

“Happy? It’s all right to be happy, John Geary. It took me a long time to realize that after my husband died, but in time I did.”

“How long did it take?” he asked quietly.

“Until tonight. Now go speak with your colonel and for the living stars’ sake make sure you’re dressed before you do.”

“I’m sure the colonel has seen worse,” Geary noted. But he hastily pulled on his uniform as he went to the desk in his stateroom and activated the communications terminal there, trying to shake his mind clear of what had happened with Rione earlier that evening so he could concentrate on his job. “What’s bothering you, Colonel?”

Carabali bore signs of fatigue, which made Geary feel guilty about his own rest. The Marine commander pointed at a display next to her. “Sir, your ships are moving close to the fourth world. That’s not my business normally, but it’s my job to warn fleet officers about planetary threats.”

“Planetary threats? We bombed the hell out of that world. There shouldn’t be any functioning antiorbital weapons left.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Carabali agreed. “That’s not the same as aren’t. Sir, we hit everything we could see from a few light-hours out. But that’s a densely populated and heavily built-up world. It’s not as easy to see things when there’s so many other buildings and installations around. On top of that, the impacts stirred up a lot of dust and water vapor into the upper atmosphere, so we can’t see the surface worth a damn right now. We don’t know what we haven’t seen, and we don’t know what’s down there now.”

Geary studied the display, rubbing his chin. “Good point,” he conceded. Fighting in space makes it too easy to assume you can see any threat long before it reaches you. That won’t apply in this case. I should have realized that. The victories over the Syndics so far in Sancere Star System, and surviving the collapse of the hypernet gate made me too confident. I haven’t been paranoid enough about what else might be lurking in this system. “Can they target us through that stuff in the atmosphere if they do have surviving weaponry?”

“We definitely didn’t get every possible air-and spaceport, sir. All they have to do is get something high enough to relay a view down to the surface. It could be an unmanned drone that would be very hard to spot.”

Geary called up the exploitation plan, checking to see what Formation Bravo was getting. “Our ships are heading for the Syndic orbital shipyards, what’s left of them anyway, and some big orbiting civilian installations. We need what’s on those, Colonel, especially the food and raw materials stockpiles.”

“Sir, I don’t like it.”

“Can you give me a plan, Colonel? Something that would let our ships loot those locations and keep the Syndics from targeting us with any weapons surviving on the surface?”

Carabali frowned, looking down as she thought. “We’ve got scout ships we can send into the atmosphere. Recce drones. But there’s no telling how low they’d have to go to get a decent look around, and the lower they are, the less area they can monitor or search.”

“How many of those drones are with Formation Bravo?”

The colonel frowned again, checking something outside Geary’s view. “Ten, sir. All operational. But if we send them down into that, there’s no guarantee they’re coming back up, and as far as I know, your auxiliaries can’t make new ones for us.”

“They can’t make me new ships, either.” Geary took a moment to think. “I’ll talk to the commander of Formation Bravo. That’s Captain Duellos. We’ll use the recce drones to check beneath the junk in the atmosphere, and we’ll keep ships out of low orbits. I’ll see what else I can think of and get back with you soon.”

“Thank you, sir.” Colonel Carabali saluted, and her image vanished.

Geary sighed heavily and stood, turning to say goodbye to Rione. He discovered her near the bunk, standing leaning against the bulkhead, still naked, watching him. “No rest for the weary?” she asked.

“I’ve gotten more rest than a lot of people,” Geary muttered, looking away.

“What’s the matter, Captain Geary?” Rione asked, her voice sounding mildly amused.

“I’m trying to concentrate on my command responsibilities. You’re a little distracting.”

“Just a little? I’ll see you on the bridge in a while.”

“Okay.” Geary paused before leaving, then set his stateroom access to allow Rione entrance at any time, knowing she was watching. On the way up to the bridge, he felt an odd sense of disquiet. Rione had been extremely passionate during their lovemaking but now once again held that attitude of cool detachment toward him, even while standing before him naked. Geary couldn’t help thinking of a cat, one that had taken the affection it desired but reserved the right to walk out the door at any time with no regrets. He had never seriously considered the possibility that Victoria Rione would want a relationship with him and so had never thought about what that might mean. She had said she liked him, but the word love certainly hadn’t come up. Was Rione only using him for her own comfort? Or, worse, was she positioning herself close to him for her own political advantage, either against the Black Jack Geary she feared or other politicians back in the Alliance?

What would it be worth for an ambitious politician to be the consort of the legendary hero who had miraculously brought the Alliance fleet home to safety?

How can I think that? Rione’s never shown any sign of that kind of ambition.

But then there’s a lot of things she’s never shown. Not to me, anyway. Like wanting to bed me. Say she’s still devoted to saving the Alliance from Black Jack Geary. How hard would it be to rationalize gaining power for herself by close association with me so she would be better able to control whatever I did? How do I know that beneath that dedicated exterior there isn’t a very ambitious woman ready and willing to use me to further her own career?

Ancestors help me. For all I know Rione is totally sincere. Why do I have to try to second-guess this?

Why do I have to be suspicious of her?

Because I’m so damned powerful, and if I succeed in getting this fleet home, I’ll be a lot more powerful.

She’s the one who made me realize that in the first place.

On the other hand, if she is using me, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. And if I’m just a means to help her attain rank in the Alliance governing council, there’s worse fates. I’ve no reason to think she’s unethical or power-hungry.

Right, Geary. You’re such a good judge of women that she had to practically drag you into bed before you got the hint.

Not for the first time, Geary found himself baffled by what Rione was thinking and looked forward to the relative simplicity of dealing with an enemy he knew was just trying to kill him.

CAPTAIN Desjani yawned and nodded in greeting as Geary entered the bridge of the Dauntless. “You spoke with Colonel Carabali?”

“Yeah,” Geary replied, taking his seat and calling up the display. He studied it for a moment. He had been either sleeping or otherwise engaged with Co-President Rione for about five hours. Against the scale of a star system, not a lot changed in that amount of time. But Formation Bravo was bearing down steadily on the fourth world and the supplies it offered. Courageous was just over thirty light-minutes away from Dauntless now, so any conversation with Captain Duellos would be a drawn-out affair.

Geary organized his thoughts, then keyed the personal command circuit. “Captain Duellos, this is Captain Geary. There’s some concern here about the dangers posed by bringing your ships close to a heavily built-up world that might still have some functioning antiorbital systems under that dust blocking our views of the surface. Please deploy the Marine atmospheric recce drones on your ships to search beneath the high dust layer for any signs of a threat. Ships should be kept out of low orbit. Maintain a tight scan of the upper atmosphere for any signs of Syndic drones or other reconnaissance activity that might provide targeting information to weapons on the surface. Please employ whatever other safety measures you feel are prudent and keep me advised.” Should I add anything else? No. Duellos knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t need me preaching to the choir about the need to be careful and avoid losing ships. “Geary, out.”

He slumped back, rubbing his forehead. I forgot when I broke up the fleet that it would mean I’d lose real-time communications with most of my ships. At least I don’t need to worry about Numos messing something up. Unfortunately, that small comforting thought reminded Geary of the almost forty ships that had followed Falco and might already have been destroyed.

Desjani shook her head. “With your leave, Captain Geary, I’m going to go below and grab a couple of hours of real sleep. I’m wasting my time up here right now.”

Geary automatically checked the display again. Formation Delta, once again formed around Dauntless, was close to a day away from the facilities orbiting the third planet, which were its objective. There wasn’t a trace of Syndic shipping under way in the system, except for the battered Force Alpha, which remained out between the orbits of the seventh and eighth planets, maintaining a very large distance between itself and the closest Alliance ships in Task Force Furious. Geary wondered how long it would be before the Syndic commander realized that it wouldn’t be a career-enhancing move to survive with the rest of his or her flotilla intact while the Alliance leisurely trashed the star system. “Why not make it more than a couple of hours? I’ll stay up here for a while.”

Desjani grinned. “Thanks, but even with you on the bridge, I’m still the captain of this ship.”

“How about if I order you to get at least four hours’ rest?”

“I guess I can’t refuse a direct order,” Desjani admitted with clear reluctance. She stood, stretching again. “You seem to be feeling better, sir, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Rest helps.” Co-President Rione chose that moment to arrive on the bridge. She nodded coolly to Desjani and then inclined her head in another wordless greeting to Geary. He nodded back, more pleasantly than he had been greeting Rione for some weeks. As Geary turned back, he caught Desjani’s eyebrow raised as she looked from Geary to Rione. Realizing Geary was watching, Desjani rapidly hauled down the eyebrow, assuming a noncommittal look. Desjani can tell? How could it be that obvious? Geary wondered. We didn’t even say anything.

Captain Desjani faced her senior watch-stander. “I’ll be in my cabin. Resting.” On the last word, she gave a side-long glance to Geary and one corner of her mouth twitched as an effort to suppress a smile didn’t quite succeed. As Desjani left, she paused by Rione. “It’s a pleasure to have you aboard, Madam Co-President.” As far as Geary could remember, Desjani had never offered that kind of sentiment to Rione before.

Geary felt a headache starting again, even though Rione looked amused as Desjani left. “How?” he asked Rione in a very low voice.

“I’m afraid that information is on a need-to-know basis,” she informed Geary in a matter-of-fact voice.

“In other words, it’s a woman thing.”

“If you care to think of it that way.”

He leaned back, indicating the display. “What do you think? Colonel Carabali was concerned about Formation Bravo getting close to the fourth planet. Does anything else set off alarms for you?”

“I’ll take a look. Surely you don’t think I have the skill to make a military assessment?” Rione asked.

“No. But sometimes someone with military training can overlook even something obvious to a layperson.

I notice you don’t seem all that worried. Whenever we’re in Syndic systems I’m used to having you toss out warnings about everything that can go wrong.”

“And you like that?”

“Well, I’m used to it, anyway. Besides, you’ve often been right.”

Rione gave him a very small smile, then nodded and bent to study the display before her seat. Geary checked the time. Twenty more minutes before Duellos would even get his message. Probably an hour, at least, before an answer came.

Who could have guessed war could be boring? Right up until it starting scaring the bloody hell out of you.

DUELLOS rogered up for Geary’s instructions, adding that he would keep his ships positioned with Syndic orbital facilities between them and the surface of the planet as much as possible. Presumably even the Syndics wouldn’t deliberately shoot through their own installations.

The formation of which Dauntless was a part coasted past the orbit of the fourth world, heading farther inward toward the third world. At their closest point, Geary was within four light minutes of Formation Bravo. On his display, small images reflected relayed data from the Marine recce drones over the fourth world, their transmissions occasionally fuzzed by static from the dust filling the upper atmosphere of the planet.

On visual, the images revealed what seemed a pleasant enough world, with large cities, abundant towns, and big areas of wilderness marred by occasional scars of mining or other resource extraction. It seemed a nearly deserted world from the images, though, with streets and roads almost empty of people and vehicles. The few vehicles sighted were clearly official, often traveling in convoys. The rest of the population was apparently hunkered down, though hiding in buildings or cellars or even shelters wouldn’t offer any protection if the Alliance decided to bombard the planet in earnest.

Here and there, craters marked the sites of impacts from the kinetic bombardment. All of the images from the parts of the planet receiving sunlight had a grayish, washed-out quality, as if seen on a very cloudy day, because of all of the dust in the upper atmosphere. The night-side images were pitch-black, the dust blocking any starlight from reaching the surface.