Jack Campbell - Perilous Shield

“We knew that would be your answer,” Marphissa said, smiling. She brought her right fist over to rest above her left breast in the Syndicate salute, but gave the routine gesture a ceremonious solemnity. “For the people, Marphissa, out.”

You knew? How could you have known when I didn’t know until this moment? During her long and distasteful climb to CEO rank, almost every mentor of Iceni’s had warned her against subordinates who assumed too much or who acted in inexplicable ways.

But it was done. The decision had been made. And Marphissa had provided excellent service in the past. She would no doubt continue to be invaluable for however many hours she and her warships continued to exist.

Iceni dropped her privacy field and looked toward General Drakon. “I have ordered Kommodor Marphissa to take all warships out of orbit. They will meet up with the other heavy cruisers at the gas giant, and the unified flotilla will engage…” Iceni swallowed, wondering why her throat had suddenly tightened. “Will engage the enemy, fighting until they are destroyed,” she finished.

A prolonged silence was broken by the respectful voice of Colonel Malin. “ All warships, Madam President?”

“Yes, that is what I said,” Iceni snapped, not certain why she felt so angry at the question. She pretended not to be aware of the subdued reaction sweeping through the command center, of the workers looking at her with amazement and gratitude. You are happy because I’m not leaving you to your deaths? Is it so easy to buy your loyalty?

Drakon walked toward her, moving with reassuring solidity. She hadn’t realized how much she liked that, to see him stride forward, all stubbornness and strength. An anchor in a world where all certainties had given way. “Good,” he said, as if Iceni’s words reflected some prior consultation and agreement. “Let’s talk about our plans for defending this planet.”

“Certainly,” she said. A man who publicly backs my decisions without hesitation and yet maintains his own authority! If only you weren’t a CEO, Artur Drakon. I could love a man like you if I could trust you.

She let her gaze flit across Colonel Malin, looking for any indication of warning in his eyes or posture. Drakon had no idea that Malin had been for years secretly providing her with inside information, and he would have included one of his most trusted aides in any plans to betray her. But Malin gave no sign of warning as Iceni turned to walk beside Drakon toward one of the secure conference rooms opening onto the command center.

“What exactly did your Kommodor say?” Drakon asked, as the door sealed, and the small security lights over it turned green to confirm the room’s countermeasures were active.

Iceni told him.

“Damn,” Drakon said. “She really is an idealist. I didn’t think there were any of them left in the Syndicate Worlds. Or anywhere else.”

“There probably won’t be any of them left in this star system much longer. She worries me,” Iceni said.

“I can see why. But you need someone like that in a fight like this.”

“And after the fight is over?” Iceni asked.

“The strongest horse is the hardest to handle,” Drakon said.

“What the hell does that mean?

“It means that the best subordinates need to be led rather than coerced, but they usually turn out to be worth it in a crisis.” He looked around, his hands moving, as if seeking something else to do. “I’ll keep my troops digging in. Most of that activity will be in the cities and towns, which might upset the citizens. But if it comes to a fight to the death, my soldiers can hold out the longest in an urban environment even if it’s been pounded to rubble by the enigmas.”

Iceni leaned both hands on the table in the center of the room, gazing at the synthetic coral surface but seeing in her mind’s eye the multitude of islands that dotted the planet. “The aliens are four and a half light-hours away. If their ships perform like ours do, we have three or four days before they can get here, depending on exactly where the enigmas go. Would it make sense to evacuate the citizens? Disperse them among the islands?”

“Can they get food and water?”

“From the oceans, yes. Fishing boats can deliver their catches to the islands instead of port cities, and there are many portable desalinization units.”

Drakon shrugged, looking unhappy. “It’s your call, but if you send citizens out to the islands, they’ll be easily spotted by the enigmas when the alien ships get close enough.”

“And then every island will be a target for bombardment,” Iceni said. “And the small islands will be more concentrated targets than the cities are.” She knew how it worked. She had participated in some planetary bombardments during the war with the Alliance, giving her memories that she shied away from, as well as the occasional nightmare despite every treatment modern medical science could offer to cope with what someone might have seen. Or done. “There’s not enough land area on this planet to disperse everyone.”

“No,” Drakon agreed. “There isn’t.”

“And any large bombardment projectiles that hit the water will generate tidal waves that swamp the low islands. I’ll do what I can to keep the citizens calm and work out a limited evacuation. Maybe the enigmas won’t slaughter civilian families if they’re unarmed and obviously no threat.” She knew that was wishful thinking. Drakon was trying to hide his skepticism and not quite succeeding, but she couldn’t blame him for that.

“We don’t know what has happened to citizens in star systems taken over by the enigmas,” Drakon pointed out.

“We know we’ve never heard any trace of them afterward.” Iceni took a deep breath, stood straight, and met Drakon’s eyes. “I’ll do what I can and keep sending occasional messages to the enigmas and Boyens. If either of them reply, I’ll negotiate.”

“And I’ll make sure my troops are ready when the enigmas get here.” He offered her a half-mocking salute. “Did you ever watch those old drama vids? The ones about that ancient empire and its arena fights to the death?”

“Yes. The gladiators. We who are about to die salute you.” She returned Drakon’s salute, smiling sardonically. “Are you going to betray me, Artur?”

He looked back at her, no answering smile appearing. “No. Do you believe me?”

I want to. “I think we both have no chance of survival, no matter what we do. It’s annoying, actually. I always hoped that I’d be able to choose my own death.”

Drakon glowered at the floor, then raised his gaze to her. “It won’t be a stab in the back. Not from me.”

He sounded like he really meant it.

“What the hell are they doing?” In her frustration, Iceni spoke her thoughts out loud. “It’s been twelve hours, and they’re just sitting there!”

The only other person in the office off the command center was Mehmet Togo, who seemed momentarily uncertain as to whether he was expected to reply.

Iceni glared at the much smaller version of the star-system display floating above the conference table in this office. “I know what Boyens is doing. He hasn’t answered me, and his flotilla hasn’t moved because he’s minimizing the risks to himself. He’s going to do nothing, pretending to be ready to charge to the rescue of the humans here while actually preparing to run back to the hypernet gate and escape.”

“If he does flee,” Togo pointed out impassively, “then CEO Boyens will have to provide justifications for his superiors back on Prime explaining why he could not save this star system from the enigmas.”

“He’s doubtless working on those excuses right now,” Iceni said scathingly. “Prime won’t accept the impossible odds as a justification, especially since it looks like Boyens will have to claim he did all that he could but didn’t suffer a single scratch fighting either us or the enigmas. But his excuses don’t have to be valid. They just have to sound good. I understand Boyens and what he is doing well enough. But the enigmas. What are they doing?”