“No, sir.” Jamenson paused, as if uncertain how to proceed. “I told you that besides confusing things, I can unconfuse things. Captain Smythe . . . likes to keep abreast of everything going on, so he monitors a lot of traffic not specifically addressed to him or his command.”
“I see.” Meaning that while still at Varandal, Captain Smythe had been tapping into Alliance communications not intended for him. Somehow that wasn’t too big a surprise. Technically, it was a violation of security rules and communications procedures, but in practice Smythe wasn’t the only commanding officer who kept his or her eye out for things they might need to know even though they didn’t have a formally established need to know. Besides, it never hurt to make sure that you knew something you needed to know about even if it hadn’t been addressed to you specifically.
“We had a large amount of such messages backlogged from before we left Alliance space,” Jamenson continued. “I’ve been getting to them slowly because there’s a lot of minutiae in them, little details and unknown program codes and funding streams I don’t recognize. But I think . . . I’m certain that I’ve identified a pattern in many of those messages.”
Her attitude wasn’t reassuring in the least. “Something concerning this fleet?”
“I don’t know, Admiral. In a nutshell, there’s still new construction of warships under way within the Alliance.”
“We knew that,” Geary said. “Completing full hulls that were almost finished.”
“No, sir. Much more than that.” Jamenson hesitated again. “I can’t be absolutely sure of how much, but from the number of project codes, contract references, and funding streams, there seem to be at least a dozen battleships and a dozen battle cruisers being built, including some extensive new modification work on partially completed hulls, plus enough heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and destroyers to serve as escorts.”
He just looked back at her for a long time, trying to fit Jamenson’s information into what he had already known. What he had thought he already knew. “This is being kept hidden?”
“Yes, Admiral. We weren’t supposed to see any of the messages concerning the construction, and it’s all hidden in a mess of details. There aren’t any single contract identifiers. It was hard to figure out what was really happening.”
Another long pause as Geary tried to think. “Auxiliaries. Are any of those being built?”
“Um.” Jamenson looked startled, then thought. “I haven’t identified any indications of new construction for auxiliaries, Admiral.”
Was that why headquarters had tried to yank the bulk of his auxiliary force? Or were these new ships intended only for defense of the Alliance and not for any offensive operations outside Alliance space, where auxiliaries would be needed?
Why had this construction been kept secret from him? Why had the grand council and everyone else told him that no new ships were being constructed? And what were these extensive modifications? Were the new ships being built for long hull lives? Which would mean that someone had realized what would be happening to the shorthull-life warships in Geary’s fleet.
Jamenson was watching him worriedly, biting her lower lip.
Finally, Geary nodded to her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. This is important information, and your ability to pull it all together means we know about it. Is there anything else?”
“No, sir. That’s all I can say at this point.”
“But you do feel confident in saying that twenty-four major warships are under construction, along with sufficient escorts for those warships.”
“Yes, sir. I can lay out all the details for you, Admiral.”
“Just leave them with me.” Geary paused again. “Please thank Captain Smythe for his foresight in telling me about this. Do we have any indications about how much the bureaucracy back home has figured out what we’re doing to fix up this fleet?”
“No, sir, I’m sorry. Before we left, we saw no signs they had picked up on anything yet, though. I’m really working hard to confuse everything.”
“I never thought that I’d be thanking a lieutenant for working so hard at that.” Geary gave her his best look of approval. “Damn good job, Lieutenant Jamenson. Thank you,” he repeated.
He would probably have to give her a medal when all was said and done because her efforts would make such a huge difference in the readiness of the fleet. But how would he word the citation? Under trying operational conditions and with limited resources, Lieutenant Jamenson successfully and repeatedly confused higher authority, ensuring that superiors in the chain of command were totally unable to figure out what was actually happening. Many junior officers (and more than a few senior officers) had inadvertently done that in the past, but Jamenson might be the first to get a medal for deliberately doing it.
Twelve battleships and twelve battle cruisers. Something to keep quiet from the taxpayers, perhaps, and certainly something that the Syndics should be kept from knowing. But why the effort to keep him and presumably many others unaware of it?
CEO Iceni was smiling slightly, with the look of a partner, or of a coconspirator. “I’ll lay out what I want from you, Admiral Geary, then what I can offer in return, and you can decide if it’s a fair bargain. I assure you, I’m not asking for anything you could not provide.
“What this star system is most in need of is your protection from the enigma race. I believe I am safe in saying that the same provision of the peace treaty that your fleet is using to justify being able to travel freely through Syndicate Worlds’ space to this star system could also be read to be an open-ended commitment by the Alliance to defend this star system from the enigmas.”
That was a turnabout that Geary hadn’t suspected. He had a feeling that this was another one of those “lawyers could argue indefinitely” issues, but if the Syndics could point to what the average person would interpret as an ongoing Alliance commitment to the defense of Midway, it would be hard to just disregard that interpretation. Especially when the Alliance was exploiting the same provision for its own ends.
“Beyond that,” Iceni continued, as if the defense issue were settled, “I would like your passive support and your active forbearance. My knowledge of the Alliance’s remaining strength is far from complete, and the central government of the Syndicate Worlds has refused to provide specific information to us about their own strength right now, but I believe that I am safe in saying that you, and your fleet, are the dominant force in human space at this time. If it is implied or uncertain whether this star system is under your protection, it will give pause to anyone, human or not, who wishes to threaten us.”
Human or not. Iceni shouldn’t expect any threat from the Alliance. The only other dangers she would face aside from the aliens would be nearby star systems led by CEOs who had struck out on their own and started threatening their neighbors, and the remnants of Syndicate Worlds’ central authority.
“Your active forbearance is critical as well.” Iceni gestured to a star display next to her, which was centered on the Syndicate Worlds’ home star system. “The central government has its hands full trying to maintain control of the star systems it still has. Every ship that arrives here brings reports of more star systems that are . . . seeking autonomy. The Syndicate Worlds’ government cannot possibly force them all back under its control, not with the small forces remaining to it in the aftermath of your campaigns, Admiral Geary. But some star systems are more valuable than others. I know how badly the central government will want to retain control of this star system, both because of the hypernet gate here and because of its strategic location.”
Iceni paused, clearly giving him time to think through her words. “Your help would be welcome in supporting the efforts of the people of this star system to find the freedom and independence the Alliance has always championed.”