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

“I’ll see what can be done,” Rione said. “You do realize, Admiral, that the occupants of that craft have signed their own death sentences. They have nothing to lose. Any deal is going to involve lying to them about being able to save their lives.”

Nobody answered that immediately. Eventually, Geary shook his head. “We didn’t put them in that position. They did it to themselves. If I have to lie to save Lieutenants Castries and Yuon from the stupidity and criminal acts of those people, then I am willing to do so.”

“Don’t bother yourself, Admiral.” Rione smiled sardonically. “I can lie for both of us. That’s also a big part of diplomacy. It’s what I do for a living, remember?”

 • • • 

THE
next hour involved considerable references to specifications of armor and weapons, debates about tolerances and backups, calling up medical references on the ability of bacteria to survive the most extreme conditions, and what little had ever been revealed about the bioengineered plague that had escaped a lab complex on Europa and wiped out every human on that moon with a speed and efficiency that had terrified the rest of humanity.

In one corner of the stateroom, Victoria Rione and Master Chief Gioninni stood listening to the others and talking quietly to each other. After initial coldness on Rione’s part, they seemed to be getting along famously.

Finally, Dr. Nasr looked at Geary and nodded. “Yes, Admiral. We can subject the outside of a suit of battle armor to sufficient heat and other forces to ensure that
nothing
survives.”

“Excuse me, Doc,” Gunnery Sergeant Orvis said, “but we should clarify that when you say
nothing survives
, you aren’t including the Marine inside the suit.”

Looking startled, Nasr waved his hands. “No. No. Of course not. The armor will protect the occupant. It will be ruined, though. External sensors burned out, joints fused, external coatings badly damaged. The occupants will be fine, but they will have to be cut out of the armor once we are done.”

Orvis scratched his head, grimacing. “By
fine
we mean uninjured. Mostly uninjured. Nobody’s going to be comfortable, though. It’s going to get pretty damned warm inside that armor until it’s pried open. But the closed-circuit backup life support inside the suits will keep oxygen going for the amount of time we need to worry about.”

“Your Marines can definitely handle the discomfort though?” Rione asked.

It was Gunnery Sergeant Orvis’s turn to look surprised. “Oh, sure. We’re Marines. Too much heat and discomfort and getting shot at and beat up is just run-of-the-mill for us. It’s when we’re really comfortable that we get thrown off by how unusual it all is.”

Rione paused, looking around with a bleak expression. “None of you have mentioned this yet, but what about the two officers? They will not be inside armor. They will have been exposed. A single bacterium would be enough, I heard. How do we deal with that?”

Dr. Nasr grimaced. “What we can do is bring extra armor and seal the officers inside. With any luck, if the fools on that ship have not gone outside or otherwise exposed themselves too much, there will be no contamination inside except anything our Marines might bring despite their own efforts to minimize the risk. But we must face such a possibility of contamination, so even after their armor is sterilized, the two officers will have to be placed in total medical isolation long enough to be certain that they have not been infected. It is the best we can do, and it will ensure that even if the officers are . . . as good as dead . . . the infection will not spread.”

“I understand the need for solutions that are only the least awful compared to the possible alternatives,” Rione said. “Thank you. That option offers our best chance and does not compromise our safety measures.”

“My people will be careful to get those officers into the spare armor as fast and clean as they can,” Gunnery Sergeant Orvis assured Rione.

“After that, you have to get everyone back up here,” Geary said to Orvis. “Are you certain that you won’t need one of the shuttles to land you on the surface and pick you up again?”

“We’ll need one on the drop, Admiral, from high up, but not on the pickup. If we used a shuttle then, we’d be using it up. There’s no way to fry the inside and outside of a bird the way the doc is talking about and have anything worth keeping.” Orvis tapped his pad, and images appeared above it. “Europa’s not a big moon at all. Not much gravity to worry about. A little over a tenth of a standard gravity. We’ll need the shuttle on the drop to bring us down as low as the quarantine allows, then we’ll jump and brake our landing with strap-on thrusters.”

Tiny animated Marines in battle armor jumped from a tiny shuttle, falling down toward an image of Europa’s surface.

“After we do the job,” Orvis continued, “we get off by jumping and using what’s left in the strap-on thrusters to kick us into orbit. The power assist in the armor combined with the thrusters should do the job.”

“You can literally jump into orbit around Europa?” Rione asked skeptically.

“With the help of the extra thrusters, yes, ma’am. My Marines and I will have to jump as hard as the armor allows,” Orvis conceded. “But we’ll be highly motivated. About all you could do to motivate us more would be to dangle some beer out of an air lock. That’ll give us something to aim for.”

“Leaving out the motivational effects of the beer,” Geary said, “what’s your margin of error on reaching orbit?”

“Ten percent safety margin, Admiral,” Orvis admitted.

“Not great, but big enough. Can the ice support being used as a jump-off platform?”

This time it was Desjani who nodded. “That’s not a problem.
Dauntless
’s sensors have studied the surface. The stealth craft landed in an area where the ice is very thick and very hard. It might as well be solid rock as far as we’re concerned.”

Dr. Nasr tapped his own data pad. “The weapons on this warship can be recalibrated to an output that is sufficient to sterilize the outer armor but not deadly to the men and women inside it. We will be destroying the outer layer of the armor to ensure that nothing can get inside the ship.”

Senior Chief Tarrini smiled. “The crew will get a kick out of shooting at Marines floating in space.”

“I’d rather you hadn’t brought that up,” Gunnery Sergeant Orvis observed. “We’ve got exactly three spare suits of battle armor, but one of those is down hard because we had to pull some parts to keep another suit going. All we need is two, though. Once we get into the craft, the lieutenants can get into the armor, then we all leave.”

Dr. Nasr sighed. “Can you send fewer Marines and try to rescue some of the others on the craft?” he asked.

Geary looked at the others, but they all looked back at him.
One more unpleasant benefit of being in charge. I have to answer that.
“Doctor, we have no idea how many people are on that craft. From the size of the craft, it could be as few as six or as many as thirty. If it’s thirty, even if I send all forty Marines aboard
Dauntless
, the odds will not be very good for an assault.”

“But if it is six?” Nasr asked.

“You understand, Doctor, that what Envoy Rione said earlier is all too accurate. Even if we get some of those people off Europa, the locals will very likely insist on executing them.”

Nasr nodded, his eyes on the deck.

“But I will see what can be done,” Geary promised. “Envoy Rione, Master Chief Gioninni, when you talk to the people on that craft, see if you can find out how many of them there are as well as what kind of deal might be possible.” If it served no other purpose, knowing how many criminals were on the craft would be very useful information for the Marines to have.

“Speaking of the locals,” Desjani continued, “how do we deal with them? From the looks of Commander Nkosi and Lieutenant Cole, those two, at least, won’t let our Marines just drop onto Europa, jump off, then sail away on
Dauntless
.”

“Can we keep them off?” Rione asked Geary. “Prevent the locals from interfering with our operation?”

He could see the answer in Desjani’s eyes. “No,” Geary said. “Not unless we shoot them full of holes.”

“Which I would prefer
not
to do in this case,” Desjani added.

Senior Chief Tarrini mumbled something that sounded like “that’s a first,” then looked around as if trying to see who had spoken.

“I don’t know how to handle the locals,” Geary said. “Fortunately, we have four politicians aboard.”

“Fortunately, we have four politicians aboard?”
Desjani repeated. “That’s one sentence I never expected to hear.”

“I’m going to have a meeting with them. You, too, Doctor. I need to brief them on our plan, get their approval—”

Desjani made an inarticulate sound of protest.

“Get their approval,” Geary repeated, “and work out how to do this without causing an incident that will be heard all the way to Kick territory.”

“You’re asking a lot,” Rione cautioned. “But I can’t disagree. We need governmental approval to do this.”

Orvis looked to both Desjani and Geary. “Should I prep my people or wait for more word?”

Geary nodded. “Begin your preparations. You know what the mission will entail. We’ll notify you when we get a start time.”

Orvis stood and saluted. Many fleet salutes were still fairly sloppy since the practice had fallen out of use during the last decades of the war before being reintroduced by Geary. But the Marines had stubbornly clung to the practice all along, so Orvis’s salute was a model of crispness. “I will require specific guidance on the hostage-takers, Admiral. Though from what I understand, maybe it would be a mercy to kill them all during the hostage-rescue operation.”

“Maybe,” Geary said in a low voice, not looking toward Dr. Nasr. “But for now your orders are to do what you need to do to rescue our people. If any hostage-takers get in your way, take any necessary actions to deal with them but do not kill anyone you don’t have to. If those orders change, I will let you know.”

“Understood, Admiral.”

“Do you anticipate any problems getting all of your Marines to volunteer for the mission, Sergeant?” Dr. Nasr asked.

Orvis smiled. “When I brief my Marines on the task, I’ll let them all know that they volunteered. Saves a lot of time that way.”

After Orvis, Senior Chief Tarrini, and Master Chief Gioninni left, Dr. Nasr turned a troubled look on Geary. “There is still a risk to those two officers, you know, even if we get them off Europa safely. It will only take one plague bacterium clinging to the outside of someone’s armor, then being transferred to them as they are put into the empty armor.”

“What can we do if they get infected before they get inside the armor?” Desjani asked.

“Nothing. I cannot even risk treating them except by remote means. If they have been infected, they may die before we finish decontaminating the outside of their armor for them and the Marines. We will have to treat them as possibly contaminated. Once we bring them aboard, they will have to be locked into extreme medical isolation. We have a single compartment that allows that. It will be crowded with two in there, but there is no choice.”

“There’s no cure?” Desjani asked. “No treatment?”

“To develop a cure, someone would need a sample of the disease,” Nasr explained. “Every existing sample has been confined to Europa. I will see if treatment simulations were run based on remote data, but I will be surprised if any are available.”

“The locals might have them,” Geary said. “They’ve been living with Europa for centuries. Surely they’ve thought about what to do if that horror ever escaped.”

“Perhaps.” The doctor shrugged. “But sometimes a taboo is too great to even bear looking at. Then, too, I remember a colleague of mine once arguing that research into cures was counterproductive, since it merely encouraged the behaviors that led to the ills. I did not agree, but such an attitude might rule here. Any suggestion that a cure might be found might produce pressure to relax the quarantine of Europa, and I understand why that could not be encouraged.”

After the doctor and Rione had left, Desjani looked angrily at Geary. “Admiral—”

He held out a warning hand. “You know that I can’t approve this on my own.”

She glared stubbornly back at him. “No, I don’t.”

“This is too big an issue, and we have representatives of the government aboard.”

“No.”

“I have to ask them, Tanya.”

“No!”

“Do you want to be present at the meeting as well?”

“No.”
Her glare intensified as Desjani clenched a fist and pounded it lightly on the table. “But I will attend, anyway, Admiral, in an attempt to ensure that two of my officers are not doomed to die on Europa by the dithering and politicking of our esteemed Alliance senators.”

THREE
senators of the Alliance, one envoy of the Alliance, an admiral and a captain of the Alliance fleet, and a doctor of the Alliance military medical corps sat around a small table inside the secure conference room aboard the battle cruiser
Dauntless
. Above the table floated an image of Europa and all the ships and other craft currently orbiting Jupiter near that moon.

Geary had finished describing the planned operation and was waiting for the reaction from the senators.

Senator Suva looked like she had a migraine headache. “Europa. Why did it have to be that place out of everywhere in this star system?”

“But it is Europa,” Senator Sakai said. “Two of our people are there. The Admiral says we can do something. Do we take that action?”

“If we don’t,” Senator Costa said, “those two officers of the Alliance fleet die.”

“How many officers have died in the last century? In the last year?” Sakai asked, his tone mild.

“That’s not the point, and you know it! It’s one thing to send members of our military on missions where they might die or even likely will die. It’s another thing entirely to sit back and let two of our people die when we could do something to prevent it.” Costa looked around the table, her gaze challenging. “That would make the Alliance look weak. Right now, the locals respect us. They’ve seen what this battle cruiser can do. We don’t want them deciding that we lack the resolve to protect our own people and interests.”

“But the two officers might already be dead,” Suva protested. “Or . . . infected.”

Everyone looked at Dr. Nasr, who shook his head. “If they were infected, they are dead, but the craft they are in must be making every effort to remain sealed against the risk.”

“And the only thing stopping us is fear of stepping on the toes of the locals?” Costa demanded. “Then let’s do it. We land the Marines, we get our people back, and by the time the locals know what’s happened, we’re at the hypernet gate and on our way home.”

“Keeping it secret may be impossible,” Sakai warned.

“But we
must
,” Suva insisted. “The consequences would be immense if it is learned that we put people on Europa and recovered them.”

“We only have to hide it until we’re clear of here, then no one can prove anything,” Costa declared. “They’ll all know what we did, but they won’t be able to prove it.”

“The locals will see us conducting the operation. We don’t have stealth equipment—” Geary began.

“Then how can we do this?” Sakai asked.

Dr. Nasr spoke with a sudden burst of pent-up emotion. “Why is this a question? The answer is simple. We cannot hide this. We should not try to hide it. Tell everyone. Tell them what we plan to do, how we plan to do it, what precautions we are taking, and let them watch as we do it all. Let them examine our equipment. Nothing else will convince them to trust us or to believe that our actions will not harm them. Why do we seek to hide it, to keep our plans secret? We are not the Syndics. We are not the enigmas. Why do we try to keep so much hidden from those who have every right to know it?”

Senator Costa’s expression had hardened as Nasr spoke. Senator Suva looked away. Senator Sakai seemed to be studying the far bulkhead, his face as impassive as usual. Rione, oddly, looked tired. But no one spoke for several seconds after the doctor finished.

Victoria Rione finally broke the silence. “You ask some very good questions, Doctor.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Costa retorted. “Security demands secrecy. We keep things like this under wraps so we can protect the Alliance.”

Costa’s criticism instantly decided Suva, who gave Costa a scornful gaze. “We keep too many secrets! Who or what are we really protecting?”

Senator Sakai made a sharp gesture with one hand, forestalling Costa’s counterattack. “There are secrets that are necessary, and there are those that serve no purpose. I would agree that secrecy has become too much a habit for us. My proof for this? None of us except this doctor thought of simply telling the truth to the people of Sol Star System. All we thought of was how to hide our actions. Do we still judge the need for secrecy in things? Or do we assume the need?”

“Do you agree with the doctor?” Geary asked Sakai.

“I do. His words have a wisdom we have forgotten. Truth does not fear the light.”

“The First Truth,” Rione said softly. “Yes. We have forgotten that.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” Costa insisted. “The only way to protect truth is to—”

“Lie?” Suva asked bitingly. “That is why we have so little credibility with the citizens of the Alliance! We don’t tell anyone the truth anymore. We classify everything, in order, we say, to protect those citizens.”

Costa looked fiercely back at her. “There are some secrets I am certain you would not want disclosed. Shall we spill them all?”

“That is a false argument,” Rione said. “It is not a matter of all or nothing. No one here would argue with the need to keep some secrets. But it has become too easy to think only in terms of hiding information and not consider the rationale for whether it should be secret at all.”

“So says the woman voted out of office by the Callas Republic,” Costa said with a sneer, “and who now depends on the charity of the Alliance for home and employment.”

Rione smiled sweetly back at her. “I freely admit to having told the truth to my people and to having been punished for that. Since we both agree that I have some experience with telling the truth, as well as plenty of experience with the lies that politicians routinely tell, that would give me grounds for having an expert opinion on the matter.”

“Excuse me,” Geary said, before the argument could become even more heated. “Everyone seems to agree that we need to act and that the plan can work. I have the impression that both Senator Suva and Senator Sakai support Dr. Nasr’s suggestion that we approach the locals openly about what we intend doing and how we intend doing it, and allow them as much access as possible to verify that we are doing what we say. Is that correct?”

Sakai nodded. “It is.”

Suva hesitated, stole a glance at Costa’s furious expression, then nodded as well. “I agree.”

“Then,” Rione said smoothly, “we have a majority of the governmental representatives present in favor of proceeding and in favor of openness. I need not exercise Senator Navarro’s proxy though I would have voted in favor as well.”

“Whoever handles this,” Costa warned, “is going to find that it bites them when we return to Alliance space.”

Rione spread her hands. “I was feeling bored, anyway. Besides, it wouldn’t feel like a proper return to the Alliance without my being accused of some serious misdeed.”

With the critical decisions made, the three senators left, followed by Desjani and Dr. Nasr. Tanya gave Geary a warning look as she left, skating her eyes toward Rione to make it clear who the warning was about.

Once they were alone, Rione slumped down, rubbing her eyes with one hand. “We need to start with the commander of the quarantine force.”

“Commander Nkosi,” Geary said. “He is the key. Have you and Master Chief Gioninni had any luck talking to the people on the stealth craft?”

“No. They won’t answer. It appears they intend sitting silently down there until we give up and leave.” Rione lowered her hand and raised an eyebrow at Geary. “I have to confess that I did not think your captain would be smart enough to tolerate having someone of Mr. Gioninni’s talents among her crew.”

“She knows how valuable those talents can be,” Geary said. “But she does watch him closely.”

“Also a smart thing to do.” Rione sat up straighter, took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then reached for the comm controls. “Let’s see whether or not we can make this happen.”

Commander Nkosi did not waste time with preliminaries. “Admiral, I deeply regret the situation in which we find ourselves. Permit me to express official condolences on the fate of your officers.”

Dauntless
was so close to the ships enforcing the quarantine that there was no noticeable time delay in the conversation. “Those condolences may be premature,” Geary said.

“Sadly, they are not.”

“Allow me to tell you what we’re contemplating doing. When I’m done, we can discuss whether or not those officers are effectively already dead.” Geary went through the plan step by step, emphasizing the sterilization procedures to be used.

Nkosi listened patiently, his expression betraying no emotion. But when Geary had finished, the quarantine commander shook his head. “I can’t agree to this.”

“Commander—”

“My orders do not leave me any discretion in the matter, Admiral. If anyone or anything attempts to leave the surface of Europa, it must be destroyed. Nothing can be allowed to leave that moon. If your Marines attempt this operation, I will be duty-bound to make every possible effort to destroy them before they reach orbit.”

Rione gestured toward where Europa lay. “Commander, can you see that stealth craft?”

“The one we are discussing? Yes. We have a good position on it. It has not moved since landing.”

“Why aren’t you destroying it now? Why wait until it tries to lift?”

Geary barely avoided giving her a sharp look. From the way Rione had asked the question, he had a very strong suspicion that she already knew the answer.

Nkosi made a face, then spoke with obvious reluctance. “Our orders are explicit. We cannot fire upon anything on the surface of Europa. The moon has not much more than ten percent of Earth’s gravity. Any explosion of sufficient strength could cause . . . things . . . to be blown into space.”

“Contaminated things,” Rione said. “I understand. Now, you have a good fix on that ship when it is on the surface. How well can you track it once it lifts?”

Commander Nkosi glared at her. “Well enough.”

“Commander,” she said in a soft voice, “I have dealt with politicians for a long time. I’ve been a politician. I know when someone isn’t being entirely candid. We already know the full capabilities of the tracking equipment in this star system. Once that craft lifts from the surface of Europa, your odds of being able to track and engage it are very small.”

Nkosi looked away for a long moment, then back at her, his gaze now defiant. “I am not ashamed of my inability to lie well. You are correct.”

“Then you cannot successfully engage the craft once it has lifted from the surface of Europa,” Rione said, as if stating something already agreed upon, “and you are not allowed to engage it while it is on the surface. How do you prevent that ship from leaving Europa and going wherever it wants?”

“
You
can track it,” Nkosi insisted. “You have shown us that.”

“We can’t stay here forever, waiting for that craft to lift,” Rione replied, her tone hardening. “All they have to do is sit on the surface until we leave. A week. A month. We aren’t even authorized to stay that much longer. And once we are gone, they go wherever they want, and you will not be able to stop them. The quarantine
will
be broken.”

Nkosi paused. “If they try that, no one will grant them docking. Their own friends will destroy them.”

“Leaving the debris to drift somewhere in space? Or perhaps they will land in a hidden location, perhaps a location on Earth, or Mars. What may happen then, Commander?”

Nkosi looked down, then back at her, his gaze appraising. “But you propose to prevent anything from leaving Europa by sending many Marines down to Europa and bringing them back?”

“You heard our proposal. We will send down Marines in battle armor, which is completely sealed against any intrusion. We will recover our two officers inside the ship, put them in spare battle armor, then our Marines and the two officers will jump off Europa, using assist propulsion units. Once they’re off the surface, we will fire upon each set of battle armor in turn, covering every square millimeter with sufficient energy to blast anything on the outside of the armor, as well the outer layer of the armor, into component atoms. You and any other personnel you desire, including your medical personnel, can personally observe it all from our own ship. You can personally examine the equipment we will use before the operation begins.”

“And what of the stealth craft?”

“Our Marines will ensure its systems are damaged so badly it will never lift from the surface.”

Nkosi grimaced. “The moment the criminals on that ship got within fifty kilometers of the surface of Europa, they had no chance. But I am not a cruel man. I take no pleasure in that. You will not try to rescue anyone but your own officers?”

“We can’t,” Geary said. “We only have two spare suits of battle armor.”

“You could send fewer Marines.”

“No. Unless you can tell me how many criminals are on that stealth craft, I can’t run the risk of making the odds against my people worse. If someone is going to die down there,” Geary finished, “it’s not going to be any of my Marines.”

Nkosi looked down at his hands where they rested on the desk before him. “I can respect your logic. But there is no if. Those on the stealth craft will die. Your officers should die as well, not because I wish it, but because my orders allow no exceptions. I will ask permission to allow you to do this.”

“How long do you think that would take?” Geary demanded, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Years,” Nkosi admitted. “To get an answer, that is. Every government in Sol Star System would have a vote, and it would have to be unanimous.”

“Then the answer would be no,” Rione said.

“Only if we are lucky enough to still be alive,” the commander replied. “I cannot deny the truth of what you say. The only way to keep that craft from escaping is to allow you to do this. Otherwise, everyone in this star system may die while the debate on what to do goes on, and the vote never takes place because everything orbiting Sol will be like Europa. I must allow this, but you must know the risk that I personally run by agreeing to allow it.”

“Court-martial?” Geary asked.

“A very short one,” Nkosi said. “The penalty would surely be that proscribed for anyone who fails in their duty to maintain the quarantine.” He pointed downward. “A one-way trip to the surface of Europa.”