“Do they? I guess there are some skeletons in everyone’s family closet. A few of my ancestors were lawyers.”
“Ah! My condolences.”
“We’ve learned to live with it.”
Duellos stepped back and saluted. “You reminded us all of how our actions have dishonored our ancestors, you know. But you did it as well as such a thing could be done. You spoke of ‘us’ and ‘we,’ placing yourself alongside us. And placing us alongside you. There are many who will not forget that.”
Geary returned the salute, thanking whichever ancestor had inspired him to use those words. Because I sure didn’t think that out beforehand. “Thank you.”
“It is only the truth, sir.” Duellos lowered his hand, and his image vanished.
Geary sat down heavily in his stateroom, staring glumly at the display he’d activated. It showed the situation in Corvus System, with a few ships from the Alliance fleet finishing up their work at the Syndic base on the frozen world while the rest of the fleet proceeded through the system in a halfway decent formation. Fourteen hours since we entered this system. How much longer until serious Syndic pursuit shows up?
I can’t believe how tired I am. Do I dare sleep? Will the fleet fly apart again if I’m not watching it?
The hatch chime sounded. Geary heaved himself up into a more formal position. “Come in.”
“Captain Geary.” Co-President Rione spoke formally, her expression as controlled as usual. “May we speak?”
“Certainly.”
Geary waved her to a seat, but instead Rione walked over to stare at the starscape that dominated one bulkhead. “First of all, Captain, I hope my interventions on the bridge did not adversely affect your work.”
“Not at all. You had some good input. I appreciated the advice.”
A momentary smile twisted Rione’s lips, then vanished. “More so than Captain Desjani, I would assume.”
“She’s the Captain of Dauntless,” Geary pointed out in a carefully neutral voice. “The bridge is her throne room, if you will. The place where her authority finds a center. Any ship Captain would be a little touchy about someone else appearing to exercise authority on the bridge.”
Rione turned her head for a moment to give Geary a searching look. “Does she react this way to you, as well?”
“No. I understand the protocol, and I have an established role. I let her run her ship while I try to run the fleet. That sort of thing is well understood. But there’s no real protocol for having a high-ranking civilian on the bridge. There’s bound to be some friction. Captain Desjani’s a good commanding officer, though. She’ll get used to your appearances on the bridge, and she won’t act improperly toward you.”
“Thank you, Captain Geary.” Rione inclined her head in a brief gesture. “I wish you to understand that for my part, I did not take amiss Captain Desjani’s strong words regarding the issue of robotic warships. The argument is never-ending, and I truly appreciate the thoughts of those who actually fight, but I cannot imagine fully entrusting weapons to artificial intelligences.”
“To be perfectly honest, I agree with you.” Geary shrugged. “It’s the same problem we had in my time. If an artificial intelligence isn’t smart enough to employ a weapon all by itself, you can’t trust it very much in battle. If the AI is smart enough to employ a weapon all by itself, you can’t trust it at all.”
Rione’s lips made another very brief smile. “True. But it’s time I addressed the issue that brought me here.” Geary waited while Rione stared at the depiction of the stars. “I find it necessary to confess something to you, Captain Geary. You have shamed me.”
“If this is about the prisoner thing—”
“It is. I suppose you’re tired of hearing us express our feelings?”
“That’s not how I meant it.”
“No. I didn’t think so.” Co-President Rione seemed to be studying the starscape again. “Captain Geary, I’m not one of those who believes that the past was always a better place. That the old ways were necessarily better. But I have known for some time that the pressures of this war have warped those who fight it. How much so is easily overlooked. We have forgotten some very important things.”
Geary frowned and pretended to be looking at his hands. “You’ve all been through a lot.”
“That’s an explanation, but it’s not an excuse.” Rione had bent her head again, her mouth a thin, hard line now. “It is all too easy to become like the enemy you hate, isn’t it, Captain Geary?”
“That’s why we have the laws of war. That’s why we try to teach honor to those who have to fight.”
“The laws of war mean nothing if those charged with following them do not believe in them. Honor can be twisted, turned upon itself, until it appears to justify the most evil actions. You know this, Captain Geary.”
Geary nodded heavily. “I’m in no position to judge anyone, Madam Co-President. I had the luxury of avoiding the many years of war that led to this state of affairs.”
“Luxury? You don’t appear to have enjoyed the experience.” Rione raised her head, but she still didn’t look toward Geary. “In the last few hours, as time permitted, I’ve gone back through my classified archives, studying the true history of the war and trying to determine how we reached this state. I want you to know it wasn’t the result of any deliberate process. I could see where the rules got bent here and there, always for what seemed good reasons. The next time they got bent some more.”
“For the best of reasons,” Geary stated without emotion.
“Yes. Step by step, over the course of time, we grew to accept things. We grew to believe that the deplorable actions of the Syndicate Worlds justified deplorable actions on our part. Even I accepted this as an unfortunate reality of the war.” She finally looked at Geary with an expression he couldn’t read. “And then you reminded us all of what our ancestors would think of those actions. Only you could do this, because no one else could speak so clearly from the past to us. You reminded us that this war began because we were different than the Syndicate Worlds. Because there were things the Syndicate Worlds would do that the Alliance would not.”
Geary nodded again, uncomfortable under Rione’s gaze. “I never believed that the Alliance somehow made a decision all at once to start violating the laws of war. I guessed it had been like you said. Starting down the slippery slope and ending up at the bottom without even realizing how you got there. All because of the old argument that we had to do some bad things to win because it was important to win.”
“An old argument and a false one, isn’t it?”
“I think so. If the Alliance starts modeling its actions on those of the Syndicate Worlds, I’m not sure what the point of winning would be.”
“I heard you say that. I agree.” Rione bowed her head toward him. “You reminded us of who we once were, Captain Geary. And you had the courage and fundamental decency to stand by the truly honorable things you believed in, even at the risk of alienating those in this fleet who believe in you and follow you.”
Geary shook his head. “I’m not a courageous man, Madam Co-President. I just acted on instinct.”
“Then I hope that you will continue to do so. When first we met, I told you that I had no use for heroes and expressed my concern that you would lead this fleet to ruin. I freely admit that thus far you have proven me wrong.” Rione inclined her head again and left.
Geary rubbed his forehead, thinking over Rione’s words. She didn’t exactly give me unconditional approval, did she? “Thus far” I haven’t lived up to her worst expectations. But that’s okay. She’ll help keep me honest. I don’t want to end up believing I deserve all those worshipful looks I keep getting from people in this fleet.