Jack Campbell - Invincible

“Thank you, General.” Geary looked at the different kind of nothing that surrounded ships during hypernet transits. A bubble of nothing, Desjani had called it, in which the ships were suspended. According to physicists, they didn’t actually go anywhere, but at the other hypernet gate they would drop out into normal space a very long ways from where they had entered the gate here.

“Four days, the spider-wolves said,” Charban reminded Geary.

“We’re going a long way,” Desjani commented. “Did I tell you that the longer the trip in hypernet space, the less time it takes?”

“Yes, you did.” He remembered that moment vividly, waiting to go into the fleet conference room on Dauntless for the first time to assume command of a trapped fleet. It had been the first time he’d really met Tanya, and she had frightened him with her expressions of faith in his ability to save them all.

She had been right, but he still thought that luck had played far too large a part in that.

Maybe it was being in hyperspace, which—being nowhere—shouldn’t cause any discomfort but still did as far as Geary was concerned. Maybe it was the many unknowns he had to face. Maybe something had reminded him of past trials.

In the middle of the ship’s night he woke up, sweating heavily, his eyes on the overhead reassuring him that it was intact. The clamor of alarms, the crash of explosions, and the screams of the dying still echoed in his head, but his stateroom was quiet with the hush that came during nights, even when those nights were artificial on ships far from any planet.

Geary sat up in the dark, rubbing his face with both hands, feet on the deck to reassure him with the solidity of the ship and the countless small vibrations transmitted through Dauntless , which told him that the ship lived.

“Admiral?” Desjani’s face was on his comm screen, her hair disheveled from sleep, her eyes still focusing as she came fully awake. In hypernet space, like jump space, even a battle cruiser commander could try to get a decent night’s sleep.

He took a deep breath before answering. “What is it?”

“‘What is it?’” You called me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She frowned. “I can call up comm system records if you want. Maybe you hit the hot button to call me in your sleep, but you hit it.”

Feeling guilty, Geary looked at the controls ranked beneath the screen at his bunk. He could have accidentally hit the one that went direct to Tanya, especially since it was the closest one to where he might have flailed an arm while fighting battles in his sleep. “I’m sorry. It was just an accident.”

Instead of ringing off, she studied him. “You look like hell.”

“Thank you.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yes.”

She just waited, watching him with the patience of a cat standing sentry at a mousehole, ready to be there all the rest of the night if necessary.

“There was a battle,” Geary said. “That’s all. The usual.”

“The usual?” Tanya sighed. “You’re not the only one to get flashbacks. And I know about the nightmares about Merlon , remember? One of them woke me on our honeymoon. Was this just reliving Merlon ’s last moments?”

He could have said yes, but she probably would have known he wasn’t being honest. “Partly. It was mixed in with other stuff.” She was still waiting. “I have these dreams sometimes. I’m on the bridge of Dauntless , or Merlon , and I’m in command of a fleet, and I’m not paying attention for a moment, just for a tiny moment, and all of a sudden enemies are there, right on top of us. Overwhelming numbers of them. I send orders, but they’re late, and they’re wrong, and ships get destroyed. Ships are being destroyed on all sides, and the ship I’m on is getting hit hard, and I know it’s the end because I know how that feels when a ship has lost, and it’s all my fault.”

“All right,” Tanya said. “Been there, though not the fleet commander part. Have you been getting stress therapy?”

“Yeah.” He felt a little better just from talking to her, though that had also brought back vividly the images of destruction from his nightmare. “They make it easier. They don’t make it go away.”

She laughed, low and soft and bitter. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve been fighting longer than you have, sailor.”

“I was hoping the treatments had gotten better in the century of the war.”

“They’ve had plenty of guinea pigs to practice on,” Desjani said with dry and dark humor. “But, no. Humans are complicated. When something goes wrong in our heads, recalibrating is not easy or simple. The docs these days can help us keep going when by all rights we should be unable to function, but they’re human, too, not gods. Stress and trauma are two of the never-ending benefits of military life, just like bad food, too little sleep, lousy living accommodations, and long separations from our families.”

He smiled wryly. “With benefits like that, you wonder why they have to pay us, too.”

“It is a puzzlement. Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Geary said.

“Liar. What else is there?”

He ran one hand through his hair. “In the nightmare, I saw you… die. Tanya, I swear that I don’t know what I’d do if—”

“If I died?” She said it in a hard and blunt way. “If that happens, you will suck it up and keep on doing your duty and living your life.”

He stared at her. “You think it would be that easy?”

“No, but that’s not the point. Do you think I’d want a memorial that consisted of a ruined man? ‘Yeah, that’s Black Jack. He used to be a hero before she died and destroyed him.’ Oh, yes. That’s what I want everyone thinking about me when I’m gone.”

“Tanya—”

“No,” she interrupted again. “Not negotiable. If it comes to that, you will live the rest of your life. You will find happiness again, and you will continue to do the things you must do and should do. Is that clear?”

“Very clear,” Geary said. “Will you do the same?”

“What, if you die? The legendary, idolized hero of the Alliance? I’ll probably write a tell-all memoir and make more money than I can count. Don’t forget that my uncle is not only a literary agent, but he has yet to be caught doing anything unethical. Sleeping with Black Jack. How’s that for a title?”

He felt himself smiling. “Can you at least avoid calling me Black Jack while you’re making your money by selling the story of our time together?”

Tanya shook her head. “Nope. I’m sure marketing will insist on it. I can just imagine the kind of book cover they’ll insist on. Some really heroic pose by you doing something you never did, probably. Maybe in battle armor. With a gun.”

“Like that would ever happen. So if I die, you’ll just write a memoir?”

“No. I’ll probably get a cat, too.” She peered at him. “Now do you feel better?”

“Yes, Tanya, I do. Thanks. Are you going back to sleep now?”

“I’ll try.” Her expression went serious. “See the docs in the morning to find out if you need any extra therapy or stuff. This junk isn’t easy to live with.”

“I will,” Geary promised.

After his comm screen blanked, he lay down again, looking upward, wondering where he would be if he were facing all of this alone.

The unnamed spider-wolf-occupied star system at the other end of the hypernet journey wasn’t the paradise the other star system had been, but it still offered a more-than-decent collection of planets and resources as well as plenty of spider-wolf towns on the single inhabited planet. Geary and the rest of the fleet didn’t see much of that star system and what it held, though, since the jump point the six escorting spider-wolf ships headed for was barely a light-hour from the hypernet gate. His lingering worries that the spider-wolves might take them somewhere else far from the promised destination dissipated as the fleet’s sensors scanned the heavens and confirmed that the stars were in the right places for them to be where they had expected to be.