The wave of relief was almost palpable. “We could make sure none of our gates destroyed their own star systems!”
“Maybe,” Geary cautioned. “We have no way of knowing how reliable the algorithm is because we only have two gate collapses to draw on for data. If it wasn’t as reliable as we think, we wouldn’t want to find that out the hard way. It’s also going to take time to get such a design finalized, approved, and installed on every hypernet gate within reach of the Syndics.”
Captain Cresida grimaced but nodded. “That’s true, sir.”
“But it’s better than nothing,” Tulev added.
“Much better,” Geary agreed. “Captain Cresida, please continue work on that concept. If we can offer that when we return to Alliance space, it will protect our homes from what happened here.” His eyes went back to the star display, realizing how far they had yet to go. A fleet still low on supplies, still pursued by Syndic forces able to destroy it if the fleet was caught in a bad position, still too deep in enemy territory.
No one else seemed worried about that. No one questioned Geary’s use of “when” they got back instead of “if” they got back. He found himself unnerved by the fear that this fleet (or most of it, at least) would do whatever he asked now, all of them certain that whatever Geary ordered would succeed. That would have been fine if he were some sort of genius, but he’d already made plenty of mistakes. Ancestors, I want their confidence, but I don’t want their faith. Unfortunately, it seemed he would get both whether he liked it or not, and this was coming on top of his distress over ordering Casia’s execution.
“Thank you,” Geary stated. “Thank you and all of your crews again for achieving the sort of victory that will be remembered as long as the Alliance endures.” He caught Duellos’s eye, then Badaya’s, sensing that both intended staying after the conference for private talks. Right now he couldn’t handle that and shook his head subtly to each to indicate they’d speak later. “I’ll see you all in Branwyn Star System.”
The images of officers vanished, and the room seemed to shrink with incredible speed. Geary sat down heavily as the last image disappeared, his eyes on the star display, wondering how long he could keep from making a mistake fatal to the entire fleet, wondering if he could really help defuse the hypernet gate bombs that the unknown aliens had succeeded in tricking humans into seeding throughout the regions of space they occupied.
“We’ll make it.”
Geary hadn’t remembered that Desjani was physically present, or realized that she had stayed in the room and was now watching him.
“I know it’s hard, sir. But you’ve brought us this far.” She indicated the display.
“I can’t do miracles,” he noted in a bleak voice.
“If you provide the right leadership, then this fleet will perform the miracles. You saw that here at Lakota.”
He laughed shortly. “I wish I could believe that! But the fleet has certainly done an amazing job. I won’t argue with you there.” The laugh died, and he nodded toward the stars.
“I almost made some lethal mistakes at Lakota the first time around. I can’t afford to make any more, and that’s scary, Tanya.”
“You don’t have to be perfect.”
“Don’t the living stars expect that of me?” Geary asked, hearing his voice get tense.
She frowned. “I’m not wise enough to know what they expect, but I’m smart enough to see that they wouldn’t have chosen a human agent if they wanted perfection. Sir, winning is usually a matter of making one less mistake than the enemy or just getting up one more time than you get knocked down. You’re doing both.”
He gave her an appraising look. “Thank you. I know you’ve told me on a few occasions that you know I’m human, but sometimes I still think you expect me to be some perfect, godlike being.”
Desjani’s frown deepened. “That would be blasphemy, sir. And unfair to you.”
“But you still think I can do it?” It was one thing for Desjani to say that if she believed him perfect, but if she knew he wasn’t perfect and still believed in him, it would mean much more.
“Yes, sir.” She looked down for a moment. “My ancestors tell me to trust you, that we were meant to… to serve together. ”
He took a moment to answer, trying to make sure he didn’t say the wrong thing. “I’m glad we’re serving together. You’ve been invaluable.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt the need to bring up something. “Vambrace was destroyed in the battle. I saw Lieutenant Riva made it off. He’s on Inspire right now.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy there,” Desjani responded, her tone notably cooler. “There are any number of attractive female officers on Inspire, assuming he doesn’t try for an attractive enlisted this time.” She saw his reaction and shrugged with every appearance of uncaring. “Lieutenant Riva burned his bridges with me a decade ago, sir, though I didn’t fully appreciate that until recently. I’d regret the loss of any member of the Alliance fleet, but on a personal level, I really don’t care if I never hear his name again.”
“Sorry,” Geary offered, “for bringing it up, I mean.”
“That’s all right. I’ve learned a lot about men since I was involved with him, a lot about what a man should be.” She looked down and bit her lip. “But we were talking about getting home, about you being able to do that.”
“Yeah.”
She must have heard the lack of enthusiasm in Geary’s voice, and somehow knew what it meant. “It’s still your home, too, sir.”
“Is it?” Geary fell silent again but knew Desjani was waiting for him to say more, as if she knew he had more he should say. “How much has changed in a century? The people I knew are gone. I’ll be greeting their now-elderly children and grandchildren. The buildings I last saw new will be old. Old ones will be torn down, with something else in their place. On this ship I can pretend not much time has passed, but once we get back to Alliance space, then everywhere I look there’ll be reminders that my home is dead and gone.”
Desjani sighed. “You won’t lack for friends.”
“Yes, I will. What I won’t lack for is people wanting to be near Black Jack Geary,” he answered, letting the bitterness he felt at the thought enter his voice. “They won’t be interested in me, just in the great hero they think I am. How can I avoid that? How can I get to know anyone when that will be following me everywhere?”
“It won’t be easy,” Desjani admitted. “But people will get to know you. Just like people in this fleet did. Who you really are besides being a hero, and I see how you react when I say that, but I’m sorry, you are a hero. Everyone in this fleet would be dead or in Syndic labor camps long ago but for you. You have to accept that.”
“I could still screw up so badly that we’ll end up that way anyhow,” Geary noted. “Look, I wish you wouldn’t call me a hero.”
“The fleet knows-”
“Not the fleet. You.”
She stayed silent for a moment, then nodded. “You need to be able to escape that at times. I understand. But I do believe you’ll be happy once we get home. You’ll get to know people. People will get to know you,” Desjani repeated. “Just as some of them know you now.”
“Sure. People in the fleet know me. People I’ll have to leave.” She didn’t answer this time, and Geary looked over to see Desjani staring at the deck, her face rigid with suppressed emotions. For the first time he really thought of leaving her, of not seeing her every day, and felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Geary wondered how his own expression looked as he realized that. “Tanya-”
“Please don’t. It’ll just make it harder.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but in some way knew that she was right. “Okay.”
“You’ll have Co-President Rione,” Desjani added in a rush.