The Lost Fleet - Courageous Part 12

"You could be right."

"I am right! Even if I don't know all those little details of fleet operations that you and Captain Tanya Desjani enjoy sharing with each other!"

He stopped and glared at Rione. "Is that about the experience question? You asked, and we answered. And you're supposed to be working to disprove rumors that you're jealous of Captain Desjani!"

"Jealous?" Rione shook her head and smiled, but the humor didn't reach her eyes. "Not likely. I just want you to remember that Captain Desjani worships the s.p.a.ce you sail through. That influences her advice to you. She doesn't think you can fail."

"That's-" Geary reined in his temper. "All right, I'll admit that's important to remember. I haven't forgotten it. Now, I repeat, I haven't decided on where we'll go from here. Please wait until I've reached a decision before informing me how wrong it is."

"I'll be happy to wait until then." Rione sighed and ran one hand through her hair. "I'm not trying to be a b.i.t.c.h about this. I'm worried. This lunge toward Alliance s.p.a.ce has gone far smoother than we had any right to expect. You're surprised, too, aren't you? Thank you for admitting that. There's a fine line between the confidence needed to command this fleet effectively and the overconfidence that will doom it."

There wasn't any trace of mockery or anger in her now that Geary could see, so he responded in the same reasonable tones. "I understand that. I know I need someone whom I trust second-guessing me."

"Someone who knows you're human," Rione emphasized.

"I know I'm not what people think Black Jack is."

"I realize that. Buta" This time Rione frowned. "Are you jealous of him?"

That came as a total surprise. "What?"

"Are you jealous of Black Jack? The great hero who can win any battle? Do you want to prove you could be just as good as him?"

"No! That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" Rione just watched Geary for a few seconds. "Many of your most devoted followers, even certain captains, idolize Black Jack and not necessarily you. Any human would find that frustrating."

"Certain captains know who I am by now." But Geary couldn't help wondering. He did get angry when Black Jack came up, almost as if the myth were a rival to the real man. "I don't think I'm trying to prove anything."

"Thank you for qualifying your statement. All I can ask is that you be aware of the fact that envy of Black Jack might skew your thinking." Rione shook her head. "I still think this dash toward Alliance s.p.a.ce was a dangerous thing to do. It worked out this far, but it's left us at Ixion with the Syndics drawing in again. And I wonder if you did it in part because it's what Black Jack would have done."

Maybe he had. After all, the fleet's captains had been restive again, wanting to see progress in getting home, wanting to do something not necessarily cautious but courageous. He'd known that, and he'd given them what they wanted. "I can't ignore what the fleet's officers expect and want. You know that."

"I do. But what they need is thoughtful, sensible Captain John Geary, not heroic Black Jack." She stepped back. "Think about what I said. Now, I need to catch up on how the ships of the Callas Republic are doing. I'll see you tonight, if all is quiet."

"Okay." He watched her go, then turned back to his own stateroom. Have I been trying to outdo or match Black Jack? No. Aggravating as it is dealing with that legend, it has also given me the leverage I need to get the fleet this far. It's not about me trying to outguess Black Jack. No, I've been trying to outguess the Syndics since I ended up in command of this fleet. Now the Syndics have seen enough of what I'm doing to try to outguess how I'm outguessing them. How do I outguess myself and the Syndics at the same time?

I need to talk to someone else. Who? Duellos, Tulev, Cresida, they'd all have good advice, but it would be the advice of officers trained to think in patterns the Syndics are familiar with. Rione is a very sharp politician, but when it comes to decisions about the fleet, she's got limitations. DesjaniaRione was right. Tanya Desjani doesn't think my decisions can be wrong.

Who else is there? I can't exactly ask my opponents in the fleet for their advice, not that I'd respect advice from people like Midea, Casia, Numos, or Faresa.

Or Falco.

Falco.

Rione would scream b.l.o.o.d.y murder.

But I wonder what Falco would advise. The man's a fool and insane, butaif I'm looking for an opinion totally different from what I would normally doa

SEVEN.

"HOW'S Captain Falco doing?" Geary asked in a professionally brisk tone with an undercurrent of concern for a fellow officer in the fleet. He didn't want anyone saying that they'd heard him mocking Falco.

The fleet doctor on the screen frowned slightly. "He's happy."

Which could only mean that Falco remained completely delusional. If he had any idea that he was under arrest instead of being in command of the fleet, Falco would be furious. "Is he being treated?"

"He's being kept stable," the doctor replied. "Those are our orders and the usual procedure when a next of kin can't be contacted for a decision on further treatment. We're keeping the condition from worsening, and we're ensuring he doesn't turn violent or self-harming. He spends most of his time developing campaign plans and seeing to the administrative needs of a virtual fleet he can access."

"The last time I checked, the fleet doctors were still running tests and evaluating Captain Falco. Can you tell me now whether or not he can be cured?" Geary asked, not sure whether he really wanted to know the answer.

"Hold on while I review his record." The doctor's image vanished, replaced by a screen holder portraying fleet doctors at work. Geary tried not to get upset with the doctor's att.i.tude, recognizing the same kinds of behavior toward laypeople that doctors had used in Geary's time a century earlier and had probably been using for quite a few millennia before that.

Finally the doctor's image reappeared. "A cure is possible. Probable, I'd say. Of part of the condition," the doctor amended. "We could reduce the delusions substantially, but from my review of Captain Falco's records and history, he was already suffering from a long-term ailment before being committed to my care. That condition probably has become habitual for him and merely correcting physical problems and near-term stress-related reality avoidance wouldn't change Captain Falco's well-established thought patterns."

"A long-term ailment? You mean something that Captain Falco developed while he was a prisoner of the Syndics?"

"No, no," the doctor corrected in the slightly annoyed way his profession had of dealing with the nondoctor parts of humanity who attempted to grasp the secrets of medicine. "Long-term. Even prior to his capture by the Syndicate Worlds, Captain Falco obviously suffered from a condition in which he believed himself uniquely capable and qualified to command the Alliance fleet and win the war for the Alliance. It's more common than you might realize," the doctor lectured, apparently having forgotten that he was speaking to the fleet commander.

"Really?" Geary asked.

"Oh, yes. The condition was common enough to be given a name several decades ago."

"A name?"

"Certainly! It's called a Geary Complex." The doctor paused, frowned, then gave Geary a close look. "That's you, isn't it?"

"The last time I checked," Geary replied, wondering just how many officers in the fleet had suffered from a Geary Complex over the last century of war.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, eyeing Geary as if expecting him to start raving at any moment. "Well, then, you should know exactly what I'm talking about."

Geary started to laugh, then hesitated. He could imagine what Victoria Rione would be saying right now, and she'd be partly right. He did believe that he was best suited to command this fleet. But that was because his legend could be used to keep the fleet together and the training he'd brought with him from the past could win victories. It wasn't based on any exaggerated ideas of his abilities, on any belief that he alone could command the fleet to victory. And it wasn't about trying to match the legend of Black Jack.

I'm nothing like Falco, and don't want to be like Falco. The differences between us are why I want to talk to Falco.

He ended up shrugging. "Maybe, Doctor. But I don't really want to command this fleet. I don't have any choice. I'm the senior officer and have a duty to perform."

The doctor nodded in the manner of someone humoring a patient. "Naturally. They all say variations on that. Their duty. They have a responsibility to save the Alliance. And so forth."

Geary sighed, not enjoying the too-close-for-comfort conversation. "I have a responsibility to save lives, Doctor, and if you look up seniority information in the fleet database, you'll see that I'm the most senior captain in the fleet by a very wide margin." He'd been promoted to captain a hundred years ago. Posthumously promoted since he was believed dead at Grendel, but the fleet regulations didn't worry about that. Once he showed up alive, the seniority counted. "Can I order treatment for Captain Falco? To get him back to reality?"

"If you're the fleet commander you can order that. Your decision would be reviewed by Alliance authorities, of course."

It should have been easy to decide. Why let a man remain insane? But Falco was under arrest, facing a number of offenses against fleet regulations and Alliance law that carried the death penalty. Cure him, and he'd face a reality far less happy than the delusions he was enjoying. But what right did anyone have to decide not to make someone else well if they had the power? "It's not an easy decision," Geary finally stated heavily.

"I would recommend against it," the doctor replied. "Taking into account all of Captain Falco's circ.u.mstances, he could well turn both despondent and suicidal if forced to confront reality. He'd be much better off in a fully staffed and dedicated health facility when he faces those issues."

There was the out that Geary had been hoping for. He wouldn't have to decide on his own. "I see no reason to go against your recommendation, Doctor. Please make sure I'm informed if your recommendation changes, or if Captain Falco's condition changes or deteriorates significantly."

"I suppose I could do that. Yes, you are the fleet commander, so you're authorized to see that information."

"Thank you. I'd like to visit Captain Falco, in virtual mode."

"Visit him?" The doctor seemed startled.

"Doesn't Captain Falco have many visitors?"

"He's under arrest. Did you know that?"

"Yes," Geary explained patiently. "I'm the one who ordered his arrest."

"Oh. Yes. But you want to see him now?"

"See him and talk to him."

The doctor frowned in thought, then nodded. "It's not contraindicated for someone in Captain Falco's condition, and of course since you won't be physically present, there's no bodily risk to either of you. I would advise you not to forcefully confront him with his true status."

"I've no intention of doing that. I a.s.sume the software in the fleet conference room can handle a virtual visit by me to Falco's stateroom. Give me the link and any necessary access codes."

That generated more frowns and warnings about medical procedures and privacy, but the doctor eventually coughed up the information that Geary needed. He broke the connection with a sense of relief and headed for the conference room, trying to fight off a sense of gloom.

He didn't like contemplating what had happened to Falco. Part of him wanted to hate Falco for causing the needless deaths of ships and their crews. Part of him just felt pity for the man. Part of him was afraid of how much more damage Falco might cause if he were brought back to reality, or at least the version of reality to which Falco had long subscribed.

Geary made sure he sealed the hatch to the conference room under his own access code, activated the meeting software and its highest level of security, then entered the data to access Falco.

A moment later the image of Captain Falco stood before him, impeccably attired in his uniform, looking as if he'd just been engaged in something important. Falco gazed around, then focused on Geary. "Yes?" After a moment, Falco's expression shifted from annoyed to the practiced, automatic smile of camaraderie that Geary remembered.

"Captain Falco, I was wondering if you had time to discuss a few things," Geary began carefully.

"Time? A fleet commander like myself has many responsibilities, you know," Falco lectured, then flashed the smile again. "But I can always spare time for a fellow officer. I've instructed the Marine honor guard sentries outside my stateroom to ensure any officer who wants to see me has access."

As the doctor had said, Falco still believed he was in command of the fleet, even rationalizing the presence of the Marine guards outside his door as sentries in keeping with his status. Did he even recognize Geary? "It's an operational question, about movements of the fleet."

"Yes. Of course. I've been reviewing the situation. I haven't yet reached a decision on where we'll go from here."

That was close enough to what Geary had told Rione to make him want to flinch, but he managed to avoid showing it. "May I?" he asked Falco, then activated the star display showing the surrounding region. Falco gave the display a confident look as if he were already intimately familiar with it. "The fleet's at Ixion."

"Of course. The latest offensive is going well," Falco declared.

"Uhayes. But we're heading back to Alliance s.p.a.ce now."

"Hmmm." Falco studied the display, then appeared briefly confused for a moment. "Hypernet. The Syndic hypernet."

"We can use it," Geary stated. "But the Syndics will try to destroy any gate before we can reach it."

"Yes. Naturally." Falco pointed. "The most direct route to Alliance s.p.a.ce is T'negu. But we're not going there."

Geary had expected Falco to say T'negu was the only reasonable choice. "We're not?"

"Of course not." Falco upped the brightness on his companionable smile. "It's a trap! Obvious, you see?" Geary nodded, not seeing at all. "Mines. The system will be carpeted with them." Falco's expression faltered again. "Mines." Geary wondered if Falco was remembering the damage a Syndic minefield had wreaked at Vidha.

Geary hadn't considered the possibility of the Syndics planting a huge number of mines at T'negu, yet it made perfect sense. The approach to Alliance s.p.a.ce necked down here. To keep going in that direction, T'negu was the only option. The system had no habitable worlds and only a small Syndic presence left inside underground cities on one planet with too little heat from the sun and too little atmosphere. Every jump point in the star system could be provided not with just a single minefield but turned into a maze of minefields subject only to the limits of the Syndic mine inventory.

Falco was still staring toward the star display but not saying anything. "Where should we go instead?" Geary prompted.

"Where?" Falco blinked, his eyes returning to Geary, and then going back to the display. "Lakota."

"Lakota? There's a hypernet gate at Lakota. The Syndics will be easily able to reinforce the star system."

"Exactly! They know that we know that! Which means they don't need to reinforce it, because they think we'll be afraid to go there!" Falco grinned triumphantly. "We'll surprise them."

Geary tried to get his mind around Falco's rationale. It made sense, in a way. And it certainly wasn't what Geary would have thought of doing. Was Falco right? The Syndics were clearly feeling the effects of the losses the Alliance fleet had inflicted on them in the last few months. They'd lost a lot of ships. Would they risk leaving Lakota lightly defended believing that the Alliance fleet wouldn't dare go there?

Falco didn't know about the destruction of the hypernet gate at Sancere, didn't know that the Syndics had demonstrated the will to destroy a hypernet gate rather than let the Alliance fleet use it. But the Syndics knew that the Alliance fleet was aware of that.

"There will be a Syndic force guarding the hypernet gate," Geary pointed out. "They can't afford not to have a decent-sized flotilla in the system."

"Of course," Falco said again with a dismissive wave. "Nothing we can't handle. We'll be able to wipe out those defenders, bombard the inhabited world into rubble, then leave as we choose."

That could be so, though Geary had no intention of bombarding civilian targets. The materials from Baldur that Lieutenant Iger had shown him had merely confirmed his own beliefs that an Alliance strategy of unconditional warfare had seriously backfired. Average Syndicate Worlds citizens feared the Alliance, feared to have their home worlds devastated, and so fought all the harder to defeat the Alliance. But did the rest of Falco's argument make sense? Was Falco crazy like a fox in this case?

Geary studied the display. Using jump drives, Lakota did have access to three stars besides Ixion.

It might work.

"Thank you, Captain Falco. I'm sorry I disturbed you." Falco smiled again, and Geary felt a stab of guilt at deceiving a man who was mentally ill. "Are you doing all right?"

Falco frowned slightly. "All right? Yes, of course. Aside from the stresses of command. You know how that is. But I'm honored to be able to serve the Alliance in any way I can. It's my duty." The smile returned.

"Do you need anything?"

"We should have a fleet conference soon. Set it up, will you, Captaina?"

"Geary."

"Really? Some relation of the great hero?"

Geary nodded. "Some relation. Yes."

"Marvelous. Now if you'll excuse me, duty calls." Falco stood and looked around uncertainly.