Jack Campbell: Leviathan

Geary shook his head. “There are a hell of a lot of things in this universe that humanity has left to learn. I honestly can’t remember, General. Did I ever offer formal condolences to the Dancers for the ships they lost assisting us in the fight against the dark ships?”

“You did,” Charban confirmed. “And the Dancers have offered formal condolences for our losses. They have also asked about what Victoria Rione did, wanting to know more about her reasons and motivations.”

“What have you told them?” Geary asked.

Charban pursed his mouth before answering. “Admiral, I told them that Victoria Rione was what humans call a Fury.”

“A Fury?”

“Mythical creatures,” Charban explained. “They avenge wrongdoing. They are absolutely merciless, never to be deflected from their purpose. Victoria Rione was a Fury, wasn’t she?”

“Yes,” Geary agreed. “I think she was.”

“I’ve been thinking about the whole Black Jack thing,” Charban continued. “A century ago, the Alliance needed not just a hero, but a military hero. Someone to inspire support for the war, someone to inspire everyone who fought.”

“Black Jack fulfilled that need,” Desjani said.

“I agree. But doesn’t a democracy also need other kinds of heroes? Doesn’t it need political leaders who are heroic?”

“Heroic?” Desjani questioned. “Political leaders?”

“I would think those were needed,” Geary said. “But from what I’ve seen, the people of the Alliance don’t have a very high opinion of politicians these days.”

“No, they don’t,” Charban agreed. “The idea of a heroic politician has become so ridiculous that no one probably even thinks of it. Our politics has been about tearing down other politicians, about mocking any claims to heroism. Politicians claim as acts of courage actions that are only aimed at advancing their own ambitions or pet causes.”

“That’s been noticed,” Desjani said dryly.

“But I do think we need heroes among our political leaders. Real heroes, whose claims to that status might perhaps be embellished but who at their core deserve to be celebrated for doing more than anyone expected. Doing something that would not benefit them personally.”

Charban looked at Geary. “Victoria Rione has given us such a figure. A heroic politician. A dead, heroic politician, and as the Black Jack example illustrated for nearly a century, the best heroes are always the dead ones because their subsequent actions can never disappoint. Would she be angry, Admiral, if she were held up as such a figure?”

To his surprise, Geary felt himself smiling. “General, given Victoria Rione’s attitude toward those around her and those she worked with, I think she would be incredibly amused by the idea of being looked up to as a paragon of political leadership.”

Desjani nodded. “She would be laughing her butt off.”

“Then I am going to pursue that, Admiral, when we get back to the Alliance,” Charban declared. “The Alliance is not, cannot be, about whichever men and women currently lead it. It has to be about ideals epitomized by those who have gone before. About sacrifice by our leaders. Maybe that is why the Dancers intervened the way they did. Not just because of the cold minds of the dark ships. Our part of the pattern, the Alliance part, was rotting from within. But we can still fix it. I’m going to do what I can.”

“You really are going into politics?” Desjani asked. “You know what that will do to your reputation.”

“I’ll risk it. Maybe if enough good people do the same, we’ll be able to change the image of our leaders.”

“Good luck,” Geary said.

He walked with Desjani the rest of the way back to her stateroom. “Come in for a moment,” she offered.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked. “We don’t want people talking.”

“Keep the hatch open. Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Feel free, Captain.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Desjani took a seat at her desk, sighing. “Speaking of patterns, and destiny, I had a thought. The enigmas covertly gave humanity hypernet technology not only to keep the war between the Alliance and the Syndicate worlds going, but also in the hope that we would first build hypernet gates in all of our star systems, then discover what excellent weapons they made for destroying those star systems that belonged to our human foes. The enigmas wanted humanity to wipe itself out.”

“Right,” Geary said, leaning against the side of the open hatch.

“But the hypernet gate here was what allowed us to survive, the only thing powerful enough to annihilate the dark ships. The enigmas gave us that weapon in the hope that we would destroy ourselves with it, and instead, we used it to save ourselves.”

“That’s ironic,” Geary said. “I hadn’t thought about it, but that’s true.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened,” Desjani continued, “if the same people who created and funded and pushed the dark ship program, as well as other really stupid and ugly things, had not also targeted Victoria Rione and motivated her to act as she did.”

He stared at her. “You said her name.”

“So what? I honor her memory. The point is, the enigmas gave us the weapon, and the people who sought to undermine the Alliance gave us the person who would pull the trigger on it.”

He kept staring. “Our enemies gave us the means to frustrate their plans.”

“Do you still believe that there has been no larger plan involving you?” Desjani pressed. “A plan by powers compared to whom the enigmas and the suits are nothing?”

“Tanya, I will never be able to believe that I am special,” Geary said.

“And that’s why they chose you,” she concluded. “I know you are going to miss her. That’s all right. She was part of the plan, too.”

“So were you,” he said.

“I just helped keep you alive, Black Jack. Alive and with your head on straight.”

He glanced over at the remembrance plaque that Tanya Desjani kept on one bulkhead. It held a list of names, a heartbreakingly long list of names, of comrades of hers who had died in battle. Two new names were on it. Victoria Rione. Captain Tulev. “Rione is not the only one I’m going to miss.”

“No.” Desjani looked away, blinking rapidly. “It’s as I said when Kostya died when Leviathan was destroyed,” she whispered. “His war is finally over. He had nowhere else. His home world destroyed. All but one member of his extended family dead. The fleet was all he had. Someday, had he lived, he would have had to leave the fleet, then he would have had nothing. Now, he is at home with his ancestors, and I pray he knows peace.”

“Peace would be nice,” Geary said in a quiet voice.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“We jump for Drezwin. Once at Drezwin, Dauntless will escort Mistral to Unity, just in case anyone tries to keep Mistral and what she carries from reaching there. The rest of the fleet will return to Varandal.”

“That’s a pretty short-term set of plans,” Desjani said. “What about after?”

“I don’t know. I’ll leave it to Senators like Navarro, Sakai, and Unruh to put the Alliance government in order. We shut down the biggest threats, but there are still other problems out there, still more of the galaxy to see, still Syndics causing trouble.” He smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t mind a little rest, though. Do you think the human-occupied portion of the galaxy will be able to manage for a few months without us rushing around, fixing things that keep breaking?”

“Probably not.” She smiled back. “You really are Black Jack, you know.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t have married anyone else,” Desjani said.