The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

Because so little else made sense, it seemed perfectly appropriate that the length of the journey meant it would take less time than shorter journeys in the hypernet required. “Sixteen days,” Desjani said.

“Just a hop to a demilitarized star system and back home again,” Geary said. “For once, we don’t have to worry about anything going wr—” He broke off at the ferocious glare that Desjani turned on him. “What?”

“Were you really going to say that?” she demanded.

“Tanya, what could—”

“Stop it! I don’t want to find out, and neither do you!”

FIFTEEN

EVEN sixteen days could seem like a long time.

The regulations and procedures for entering Sol Star System had been dug out of the archives to be reviewed by all officers. Reading them in his stateroom, Geary was struck by two odd sensations. The first was a feeling of dusting off old records even though digital files never actually accumulated dust. The second was a dawning realization that he had read through these procedures once before.

When was it? I was an ensign, I think. At some point, I called up these procedures and read them, daydreaming that someday my ship would be the one chosen at the ten-year point for the visit to Old Earth. That feels so long ago.

How many ensigns have there been in the fleet since then? How many of those ensigns died during the century-long war? I’m sure none of them daydreamed about visiting Old Earth. They just hoped to survive, and maybe to be the heroes that young men and women dream of being before they become old enough and experienced enough to realize that real glory never comes to those who seek it.

They dreamed of being like Black Jack. It wasn’t my fault they did that. The government and the fleet needed a hero, and I guess I was plausible enough to be built into one even though I’m nothing like the legend they created. But they died wanting to be like me.

I don’t know what Black Jack could do to help the Alliance with the mess it is in. I don’t know what I can do. But I have to keep trying because people believed in who they thought I was. This trip isn’t going to solve anything, but once we get back, I have to think of something. Maybe something I see at Sol will give me some ideas.

There was a link near the procedures for entering Sol that also tickled Geary’s memory. He read it, a smile growing. One more thing that had been forgotten, but there was no reason it could not be revived.

His hatch alert chimed. Instead of Tanya, or Rione or anyone else whom Geary might have expected, Senator Sakai had come to see him.

For over a minute, Senator Sakai sat without speaking in the seat that Geary offered, just watching Geary with his usual enigmatic expression. Finally, Sakai spoke in a quiet voice that nonetheless commanded attention. “Admiral, you are a rare specimen. An anachronism.”

“You don’t need to point that out,” Geary said, wondering what Sakai was driving at.

“Someone from a hundred years in the past. It has served you well in command of the fleet,” Sakai observed, as if Geary had not spoken. “It has served the Alliance well. At least, so far. But this is not the past. We are not the people you knew. This is not the Alliance you knew.” Sakai sounded neither happy nor sad about that. He simply said the words as if discussing a fact distant in time and place. “Admiral, where do you believe my loyalties lie?”

“I think, Senator,” Geary said, once more choosing his words with care, “that you are loyal to the Alliance.”

“Interesting. Do you believe that makes me unusual, or typical among the politicians who lead the Alliance in this time?”