“Because you didn’t seem happy at the evidence of how bad things are for the Syndics. You’ve told me the Alliance military is unhappy with the Alliance government, you’ve told me that everyone is tired of war, but is it as bad as here in Syndic space? Is the Alliance threatening to fall apart?”
Rione stopped walking, her gaze directed at the deck, then slowly nodded without looking at him. “A century of war, John Geary. We can’t be beaten, neither can they, but both sides can push until they fracture.”
“That’s why you came along on this expedition? Not just because you were afraid that Bloch might try to become a dictator, but because you were sure that he’d succeed, that the war-weary citizens of the Alliance would follow him because they’d lost belief in the Alliance.”
“Bloch would not have succeeded,” Rione stated calmly. “He would have died.”
“You would have killed him.” She nodded. “Bloch must have known what you intended. He must have had precautions in place against you.”
“He did.” A very small smile flicked on and off Rione’s face. “They wouldn’t have been enough.”
Geary stared at her. “And what would have happened to you?”
“I’m not certain. It wouldn’t have mattered. What counted was stopping a dictator in his tracks.”
He couldn’t spot any trace of mockery or dishonesty in her. Rione meant it. “You were willing to die in order to make sure he was dead. Victoria, sometimes you scare the hell out of me.”
“Sometimes I scare the hell out of me.” She still seemed absolutely serious. “I told you, John Geary. I believed the man I loved had died in this war. I’ve had nothing else to live for since then but my devotion to the Alliance. If the Alliance itself was about to crumble, then I’d have nothing left at all. My husband died for the Alliance, and if necessary, I could as well.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this right from the start?”
Rione watched him for a moment before answering. “Because if you were someone in the mold of Admiral Bloch, you didn’t need encouraging. But if you were truly like Black Jack, you wouldn’t believe me, because the idea of the Alliance falling apart would have been too hard for you to accept. You needed to see enough for yourself to understand how bad things are. And I did tell you things, though you may not always have recognized it.” Rione shook her head. “I sounded you out, I watched you, I did what I had to do in order to influence your attitudes toward the way things are now.”
“What you had to do?” The phrase sounded cold even for Rione. “You told me once that you didn’t sleep with me just to influence me.”
Her eyes stayed on his. “That wasn’t the only reason, no. But it was part of it. Satisfied? You got my body, I got yours, and in the dark watches of the night I whispered to you about the need to protect the Alliance from those who would destroy it in the name of saving it. Oh, I enjoyed the sex. I admit that freely. But the day came when I knew that I no longer need fear you, and when I knew that my feelings were beginning to betray the husband I still love and who may still live. I didn’t give you to her because I’m noble, John Geary. I did it for myself, and because I’d done what I needed to do.”
He didn’t believe all of that. Rione’s posture and expression hadn’t changed, but he remembered the drunken words she’d once spoken, and he noticed that even while dispassionately justifying all she had done, Rione still didn’t say Tanya Desjani’s name. “You haven’t given me to anybody, let alone Captain Desjani.”
“You may have to lie to yourself, John Geary, but give me some credit.”
“Why are you staying on Dauntless, then? There are plenty of surviving ships from the Callas Republic to which you could transfer.”
“Because you’ll need me close when we get home. Not as a threat, as an ally. I know how the political leaders of the Alliance will react to you. Black Jack has returned, the savior of the fleet and the Alliance. You won’t take what some of them will offer in exchange for more power for themselves. You won’t do what others of them will fear, taking all power for yourself. No, John Geary,” Rione insisted, “you will stand atop the bulwarks of the Alliance and defend it against all enemies, both those inside and those outside, because that’s who you are, someone out of a simpler past. And I will help you against those inside who seek to use you or act against you out of fear.”
“Against me? Do you think I’ll be in danger from the political leadership of the Alliance?”
“If I had been on the Governing Council when you returned, I would have argued for your immediate arrest and isolation under the public deception of your being on some secret mission. Because I would have thought you were someone in the mold of Admiral Bloch or Captain Falco. I’ve learned different, and I will tell the other senators what I know. Believe me, you will need me,” Rione declared. “Even those politicians who dislike me, and there are plenty of those, know that I will not betray the Alliance. My words will matter to all of them.”
Geary looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and trying to think. No matter how complex getting this fleet home in one piece had always been, life once the fleet got home had seemed so simple. Resign his commission, go somewhere he wouldn’t be recognized, try to hide from the legend of Black Jack and the unrealistic, devout expectations of those who believed he had been sent by the living stars themselves to this fleet to save it and the Alliance. He’d kept focused on that to keep everything from overwhelming him, even as the idea of walking away from this fleet and its people felt less and less right. Now he had to admit that at the very least he’d have more problems to deal with before he could leave these responsibilities behind. “Thank you, Victoria. I’m sure your help will be critical.”
She shook her head. “Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you.”
“Thanks, anyway. Do you want to discuss the upcoming battle?”
“You’ll be fine. You always are.”
His temper threatened to explode. “Dammit, the last thing I or anyone else in this fleet needs is for me to become overconfident! I’m going to try to minimize our losses, but this battle will not be simple or easy or painless!”
Rione smiled in an infuriating manner. “See? You already know that. You don’t need me to tell you. Anything else?”
“Yes,” Geary stated between gritted teeth. “How about whether we should go to Anahalt or Dilawa afterward?”
Rione spread her hands in a dismissive gesture. “Follow your instincts, Captain Geary. They’re much better than mine, at least while we’re still in Syndic space.”
“I’d still like your opinion on whether or not we can trust that Syndic CEO.”
“Of course you can’t. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t being truthful this time. See if what she said about Dilawa matches the Syndic star-system records we’ve captured.” Rione turned to go, then spoke over her shoulder. “That’s my political advice. If you want military advice, go ask your captain for her opinion. It’ll give you two another professional opportunity to huddle close together.”
He watched Rione walk away, without saying anything else that might have just invited another parting shot.
Four hours until contact with the Syndics. The Alliance fleet and the Syndic flotilla were less than fifty light-minutes apart, each force moving at point one light speed, their combined rate of closure at the point two light speed maximum for effective targeting. He could now see what the Syndic ships had been doing just less than an hour earlier, just as they could see the status of the Alliance fleet that long ago. It was still too early to set his combat formation, too early to let the Syndic commander know how Geary planned to meet the enemy.