Jane Geary had been studying something, and looked up, saying a single word. “Neanderthals.”
“What?” Badaya asked.
“Neanderthals. An evolutionary dead end, one of the prehuman species on Old Earth. They became extinct long before recorded human history began.”
“I’m familiar with what’s known of the Neanderthals,” Dr. Setin said. “How do they factor into this discussion?”
“We know that as early humans moved into the same areas, the Neanderthals dwindled and eventually disappeared. Extinct,” Jane Geary explained. “What if the Neanderthals had survived into recorded human history? What if they’d been more numerous, more powerful, able to keep fighting with our earliest ancestors longer?”
Dr. Setin took a quick intake of breath. “We don’t know that early humans wiped out the Neanderthals. There was some interbreeding, but because all prehuman species died out long before recorded history, leaving only scattered remains, we don’t know why they died out.”
Tulev answered. “Humans have a stark enough history of struggles based on things such as specific religious beliefs, cultural differences, and ethnic variations. It is not hard to imagine the conflict that would have resulted from coexisting with a slightly different variant of ourselves. And as you say, all of those variants died out. Perhaps that was a coincidence.”
Dr. Shwartz was nodding. “We have no way of knowing how the competition with variants of the human race impacted our own development as a species, but surely it had some impact. That could have been the same type of intelligent competition that the enigmas faced to develop this way of fighting.”
“All of this is plausible,” Dr. Setin said, “but we lack proof, or even sufficient substantiating detail. We need more information, Admiral Geary.”
“If these aliens are so opposed to us,” Captain Armus asked, “if there’s no chance of getting along with them, then why not return to Alliance space now and prepare for an actual military campaign? We retake this star system, then start working our way inward until we break these bastards.”
The civilians were staring at Armus, not so much shocked at his proposal as seeming to be unable to comprehend such a thing.
Badaya shook his head. “We need to know more about their strength before we plan such a campaign. Whether or not these enigmas agree to speak with us, we need to conduct more reconnaissance of their territory. Capturing some ships intact, or launching some raids, might net us some of their technology.”
“We’ll penetrate far enough to learn as much as we can, without getting so deep into their space that we might face problems getting back out,” Geary said. “Once we get to the next star, one the Syndics named Alihi, we’ll aim for long jumps, getting as far into alien space as we can as fast as we can before heading out again.”
“They don’t seem inclined to let us wander through their territory,” Commander Neeson remarked.
“If we have to fight, we will. But our purpose is reconnaissance, not battle. Victory for us in this case consists of learning as much as we can and bringing it back to human space with us.”
No one disputed that. The fleet’s ardor for battle had ebbed a bit, it seemed, now that the war with the Syndics was over. He could see the weariness on everyone’s face, feel the unseen presence of countless dead friends and companions. Yet this was also the only life these men and women knew, the only life they had ever known. As tired as they were of war, like the ground forces soldiers at Ambaru station, they knew nothing else. Change, uncertainty, was in some ways harder to face than the familiar prospect of death. They would run the risk of destruction racing against time to reach that next jump point, but if he had suggested immediately following the first proposal, to fall back and look for another way into alien space, there would have been grumbling because that wasn’t the sort of thing the fleet did when it faced a challenge. “Thank you. I’ll swing the fleet gradually around so that the slower ships, especially the auxiliaries, are closest to the jump point we’re aiming for when we start our sprint. As the fleet accelerates, the faster ships will pass through the slower ones, inverting the formation. I’ll pass the exact maneuvering orders within the next hour.”
After the fleet officers had left, Dr. Setin turned to Geary. “Admiral, I brought Dr. Shwartz to this meeting because I thought her proposals were truly based on observations and not preconceptions. However, there are two other . . . factions . . . within our group of experts. One of those, I am convinced, came along on this voyage already certain the aliens are morally superior to us and have only reacted with violence when humans have attacked.”
Desjani laughed.
“I assure you that hasn’t been the case with our encounters with the aliens thus far,” Geary said. “You mentioned two factions, though.”
“Yes. The other faction believes that the aliens must be hostile, that we will inevitably face a fight to the death with them.”
“Did these two factions ever talk to each other before this?” Desjani asked.
“No,” Dr. Setin said. “At least not when they could help it, which was most of the time. However, both factions have prepared their interpretations of what we have seen so far, and I feel obligated to ask that you review those.”
“That’s all right,” Geary replied. “One of the mistakes the Syndics made was not considering alternatives from what they believed was true of the enigma race. I can at least skim these reports to see if there’s anything in them that makes me think twice.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Dr. Setin peered at Geary. “You’re open-minded for a military person.”
“He can afford to be,” Desjani said. “I’m close-minded enough for both of us.”
Setin eyed her, clearly unable to tell if Desjani was joking, then smiled politely before his image vanished.
“I’ll leave you to your diplomatic discussions,” Desjani said as she stood up, with a dismissive glance toward Charban and Rione.
After she had left, Rione looked at Geary. “Your orders call for this fleet to discover the boundaries of space controlled by the enigma race.”
“Yes, they do. But as fleet commander, I have the discretion of responding to the situation if it requires modifying my instructions.” Geary, feeling increasingly aggravated with Rione since she hadn’t bent at all despite his forbearance with Paol Benan’s actions, kept his speech formal. “I won’t keep charging toward the galactic core as long as the enigma race and my fuel supplies hold out. We’ll reach a point where our fuel cell supply, even as augmented by new cells built by the auxiliaries, will begin declining past ninety percent. At that point, we’re heading back. I hope,” he added to see what reaction it produced, “that the grand council wouldn’t expect me to hazard this fleet by complying blindly with orders given many light years from here.”
“Senator Navarro certainly wouldn’t,” she said, neither her tone nor her expression providing any clue to anything but the literal meaning of the statement.
“I know we’ve had some sharp words,” Geary said, looking at General Charban as well now, “but I want to be certain you both understand that I consider us to be on the same side.”
“Of course we are,” Charban agreed.
Rione simply looked back at him.
THREE hours later, Geary gave the order for the fleet’s ships to pivot around and accelerate all out toward the jump point for Alihi.
ELEVEN
ELEVEN hours to the jump for Alihi. An hour after the fleet had leaped toward that jump point, the nearest alien warships suddenly swung about and raced to match the movement of the Alliance fleet.