Jack Campbell - Leviathan

“And if Bloch’s not there?” Vitali pressed. “How can we be sure how those dark ships will react?”

“We cannot be,” Duellos said.

“Is there something in particular that concerns you, Captain Vitali?” Geary said. “Something about the dark ships that we’ve seen but the rest of us might not have noticed?”

Vitali glared at the table, though his upset clearly wasn’t aimed at Geary or the question. “If there was one thing I saw that causes me to question how they… think… it was what the second battle cruiser did just short of Ambaru Station. Falling back to be with its crippled comrade. None of us expected that.” He looked around the table, his grim expression challenging anyone to claim otherwise, but no one did. “How long would you wait, sir?” he asked Geary. “How long before you assumed the enemy was doing something other than what you wanted?”

“That’s a legitimate question,” Geary said. He paused to think, aware of all of the eyes upon him. “There are two things we have to consider. One is that I wouldn’t have set things up that way. If I had the superiority in maneuverability and firepower that the dark ships do, and knew that this fleet had as much maintenance work going as it does, which also means this fleet is spread across a wide swath of this star system and not concentrated for battle, I would have come charging in here to see how much damage I could do.”

Desjani grinned in approval.

Vitali nodded. “That’s true. They’re being more cautious than you would be. That does sound like Admiral Bloch is calling the shots at Bhavan, or at least planned the action.”

“It’s also old doctrine for confronting a strong opponent,” Geary said. “They may just be using that doctrine as a template for action. The second thing we need to remember is that the AIs controlling the dark ships are not really being human. They’re just acting human. Right?” Geary asked of everyone. “That second battle cruiser didn’t fall back to its stricken comrade because of any emotional imperative or loyalty. It did it because its programming told it to do that.”

Captain Casia of the battleship Conqueror rubbed his chin. “It wasn’t acting human, it was simulating how it thought a human should act. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? How you, specifically, would act, Admiral.” Casia turned a keen look on Geary. “Would you have dropped back if it had been you commanding that second battle cruiser?”

Geary frowned, thrown off-balance by the question. “I haven’t really considered that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Captain Badaya announced confidently.

“What makes you so certain of that?” Casia replied, sounding genuinely curious.

“Because we’ve seen it.” Badaya pointed at Geary. “He knows what the mission is. He doesn’t abandon us, but he also doesn’t make futile gestures. He is willing to accept when losses must be taken to get the job done.”

“Your example being… ?”

Badaya, undiplomatic and socially inept as he was, still managed to look uncomfortable as he answered. “ Repulse .”

It took Geary a few moments to realize that he had closed his eyes and was striving to settle the emotions that had uncoiled inside him. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes and focusing on Badaya, who was frowning in distress but also defiantly.

Tanya looked ready to bite off Badaya’s head.

“You’re right,” Geary said into the silence that had fallen, surprised at how steady his voice sounded. “It is not easy for me to acknowledge that, but you are right. For anyone who is unaware, when I assumed command of the fleet at Prime, Repulse had already suffered serious propulsion damage. When I made the decision to lead the fleet in an escape, the commanding officer of Repulse ”—Michael Geary, his own grand-nephew, Jane Geary’s brother—“volunteered to help hold off the Syndic pursuit long enough to ensure the rest of the fleet escaped.”

“And you accepted what Captain Michael Geary offered,” Captain Tulev said, his own voice as dispassionate as usual. “Because you knew the necessity of it. As you knew the necessity of fighting your heavy cruiser Merlon to the end at Grendel. Captain Badaya is correct. The dark ships are programmed to follow a model of your actions that does not give sufficient weight to your ability to recognize when you must do what is required no matter the cost.”

“They still think you’re soft,” Badaya added, rousing himself again now that the wave of disapproval had faded. “I did, too. A lot of us did. You came out of the past and reminded us that our ancestors would never have accepted the practices that we had grown to accept without even thinking. Killing prisoners. Bombarding cities. It took many of us a while to see that your objections reflected wisdom, not softness. But the people in charge of the people who did the programming, to them who have not served directly under you, they still think you’re too humanitarian, and that’s the model the dark ships are working on.”

“He has an excellent point,” Duellos said, looking at Geary. “How we can use it, I don’t know, but at the least it would imply that the dark ships will assume that you will come to rescue the people of Bhavan no matter the risk.”

“Admiral Bloch would assume the same,” Tulev said.

“What about those two agents?” asked Captain Parr, commanding officer of the Incredible . “The ones who tried to take over Ambaru?”

“They’re still aboard Dauntless , in our most secure confinement conditions,” Desjani replied. “And they’re still not saying much. We got some initial self-justifying statements, but since then nothing. Our interrogators say they’ve been well trained on dealing with interrogation methods and equipment.”

“If they are legitimate, sooner or later orders will come in telling us we have to release them.”

She smiled at Parr. “We’ll have to ensure the orders are legitimate. It might take a lot of back-and-forth, a lot of time, to be absolutely certain.”

Parr grinned. “Good. I want them aboard our ships when we face the dark ships. Maybe that will loosen their lips.”

“Speaking of loose lips,” Captain Duellos said, “are we certain that the dark ships cannot monitor our own comms, cannot break into our fleet net?”

“They could have at one time,” Geary said. “We’re now operating on a unique set of codes for comms within the fleet. Our code monkeys swear the dark ships cannot break those codes before we do automatic changes at random intervals.”

“How much are you taking to Bhavan, Admiral?” one of the heavy cruiser commanders asked. “How much of the fleet?”

“As much as I can,” Geary said. “Even if we only find the dark ships that were there in the last report, four battleships and their escorts, it will still be a tough fight. There is a possibility that someone will arrive with the necessary codes to shut down the dark ships before they do more damage, but odds are we’re going to be responsible for cleaning up the mess before it gets a lot worse. Prepare your ships for action at Bhavan.”

As the images of the commanding officers vanished in a flurry, the apparent size of the conference room and the table shrank at a matching rate, until Geary was standing in a moderately sized compartment at a table that could have sat ten people comfortably, the only one left with him the real presence of Tanya Desjani.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded, not saying anything.

“Badaya shouldn’t have brought that up. He’s a clueless oaf, but he’s not usually that brainless—”

“Tanya.” Geary gave her a rueful look. “He was right. In a critical situation, the dark ships might well assume that I will go for a crippled companion, abandoning the mission in the process. If Badaya hadn’t brought that up directly, I might have shied from considering it. You know as well as anyone how I never like to think about watching Repulse die, and wondering whether or not Michael Geary made it off the ship in time.”