He cast a worried eye on his display. The Alliance fleet, able to fall back on its enormous firepower advantage, had suffered little damage while nearly wiping out the attempted enigma ambush. He hated to think how much damage those enigma battleships might have caused if their initial planned attack runs hadn’t been forced to abort by the confusing Alliance scramble when they first arrived at Lalotai. And, despite their losses, the enigmas hadn’t cut and run. The eleven surviving enigma ships were together in a loose formation just outside of the range of Alliance weapons, pacing the human ships.

  Most worrisome was the enigma hypernet gate, far off on the other side of the star system. If the enigmas made the choice to collapse that gate, sacrificing this star system and every enigma in it to destroy the Alliance fleet, there wouldn’t be much he could do. But it seemed unlikely the enigmas would do that. This star system, facing off against the Dancers, must be regarded as particularly valuable.

  He stood down the fleet from full combat readiness so the crews could rotate in sections for food and rest, but because of the nearby enigma warships had to have every warship maintain their weapons ready to fire. With some spare time finally available, he called the destroyer that had suffered two hits. “Lieutenant Laumer, I’m seeing you took a casualty.”

  “One of our chiefs lost a hand,” Bolo’s commanding officer replied. “But he’s not too upset because it isn’t the hand he holds his coffee with.”

  “We’ll get it regrown anyway,” Geary said. “Two hull penetrations and that was your only casualty?”

  “Our ancestors were looking out for us,” Lieutenant Laumer said. “We did take serious equipment damage. My chief engineer recommends that Bolo pull alongside one of the auxiliaries to get the damage fixed properly.”

  “Good. Make sure Captain Smyth is aware of what you need. Tell your crew well done from me.”

  He stayed on the bridge a little while longer, making sure the fleet was properly in formation and on vector for the jump point, and worried that the remaining enigma warships might try something. Finally, exhausted, Geary went down to his stateroom to try to sleep. They had fifteen hours to go before they reached the next jump point, and it wouldn’t help anything if he was strung out from lack of rest when they got there.

  He managed to get in only six hours of sleep, though, before his stateroom alarm chimed urgently. “One of the enigma ships has altered vector, Admiral. It’s left their formation but doesn’t seem to be headed for us. Current estimates are that it will pass several light minutes astern of our formation.” The watch stander paused. “We just got an update from the ship’s systems, Admiral. They’re estimating the enigma is aiming to intercept the burial tube we launched.”

  “How long?” Geary mumbled, trying to decide if he had to wake up right this minute.

  “One hour to intercept, Admiral.

  “Good. Thank you. Call me again in half an hour.”

  A good sailor never passed up the chance for another thirty minutes of sleep.

  * * *

  BY the time the enigma ship reached the vicinity of the burial tube, Geary was back on Dauntless’s bridge. By this time they were close to a light hour away from the enigma and the burial tube, so what they were seeing had happened nearly an hour ago, but that didn’t really matter in this case.

  The enigma closed on the burial tube, matching its vector but maintaining enough distance to be safe if the tube contained a booby trap. Keeping its distance, the enigma warship rolled over and completely around the burial tube.

  “They’re scanning it from all angles,” Desjani commented.

  He simply nodded, watching. Burial tubes were designed to be transparent to most sensors to ensure that no one would use them as weapons or to smuggle people or things. The material added to keep anyone from seeing the body inside wouldn’t stop sensors operating in other spectra. The enigmas should be easily able to determine that there was nothing inside but the body of their fellow enigma and the wound bag still protecting it. They should also be able to tell that the body had retained all of its possessions and hadn’t been compromised in any way by the Alliance.

  After about twenty minutes of slow examination of the burial tube, the enigma warship suddenly accelerated past it. When it was about one hundred kilometers ahead of it, the enigma ship pivoted.

  “He fired a bombardment projectile,” Lieutenant Castries said, startled.

  Detection of the firing and the impact of the projectile on the burial tube were nearly instantaneous. The burial tube and its contents vanished, blown into tiny dust fragments, while a few small pieces of the bombardment projectile continued on, tumbling through space.

  “So much for the idea of respecting their dead,” Desjani grumbled. But on the heels of her words, her face lit with sudden thought. “Unless that’s their idea of a proper burial.”

  “What do you mean?” Geary asked.

  “What do you mean what do I mean?” Desjani gestured to where the cloud of dust from the burial tube was dissipating to be lost among the debris of the universe. “Look at that. Think about it. The enigmas are obsessed with their privacy. Why would that end with their dead? Why would they bury Daddy in a hole somewhere where he could be dug up in ten years or a hundred years and someone could figure out he’d been left-handed? I will lay you odds that enigma burials since time immemorial have involved burning their dead to ashes and then grinding the ashes and then scattering the resulting dust.”

  “But . . .” He hesitated, thinking. “When we first fought the enigmas, at Midway, before they knew we’d cracked the quantum worms, before they knew we could fight back against them, they already had those self-destruct capabilities on their ships. Which means they weren’t there just because of us. The enigma ships must have already had them.”

  “Exactly. Remember Colonel Rogero talking about the enigmas fighting each other on the ground? Why did we assume they aren’t nearly as paranoid with each other as they are with us?”

  “But how could their society function like that?” Geary protested. “We know they have cities. We know their ships have crews. Enigmas have to be able to work in groups.”

  Desjani shrugged. “Maybe it’s a clan-based thing, or extended families. Something that lets them say the other enigmas in this clan or whatever can see me and talk to me and work with me. Because you’re right, otherwise their society couldn’t have evolved.”

  “They dispose of their dead by destroying them,” Geary said. It made a terrible kind of sense. “Maybe by destroying their closest possessions, too? That would— Ancestors save me.”

  “What?” She gave him a look, puzzled by his sudden change of mood.

  “Tanya, what’s happened to the human settlements on planets the enigmas have taken over?”

  “Destroyed without a trace,” she said. A moment later her eyes widened. “That wasn’t a spiteful act, erasing any sign of the human presence? Did the enigmas give our dead the same treatment they’d have given theirs?”

  “I have no idea whether that’s true or not,” Geary said. “But if it is, if they’re acting the same way they would with other enigmas, it could change a lot of things about the way we view them.”

  “Unless it also changes the way they keep trying to kill us it won’t make much difference, though.”

  “True.” With only a few hours left until they reached the jump point for Dancer space, he called the ambassador again.

  It was morning on the ships. Rycerz was drinking coffee when he called, and nearly did a spit take when Geary explained the latest speculation aboard Dauntless. “You’re saying the enigma destruction of human settlements on planets they capture is not necessarily malicious violence? That it could actually be a sign of respect?”

  “I don’t know that’s true, Ambassador,” Geary said. “It’s a possibility, that’s all. But we’ve been thinking about it in just one way. Maybe there are alternative explanations.”

  “Of course there are. But you do realize that claiming the enigmas are just misunderstood will be a little hard to sell as long as they keep killing every human that gets within their reach.”

  “Captain Desjani made the same point,” Geary said.

  “Good. In any event, it’s up to the enigmas to decide what to do next. We’ve given them a gesture, what they should recognize as a large gesture. But they have to take the next step.”

  “I agree,” Geary said. “We’ll be jumping for Dancer-controlled space soon. Is there anything we need to discuss before we enter jump? Because our next stop should bring us face-to-face with the Dancers.”

  Rycerz hesitated, giving the impression of someone who had a great deal to say but for unknown reasons was remaining silent. Finally, she shook her head. “Not at this time. Do be sure to send your own greeting to the Dancers when we meet them. Tell them as much as you think they should know, and feel free to liberally interpret your orders to communicate directly with the Dancers on any issue impacting the security of this mission. We need to talk in more detail with each other after we arrive in Dancer space, Admiral. Talk in person, on your ship. I look forward to seeing you there.”

  After Ambassador Rycerz had ended the call, Geary gave Desjani a look. “Rycerz doesn’t trust the security of our highest-encrypted comm system.”

  Desjani nodded, looking unsurprised. “Didn’t Victoria Rione manage to break into every system no matter how encrypted? Mind you, I’m hoping our current opponents don’t include anyone as viciously clever as Victoria Rione.” She paused before giving him a glance. “I mean viciously clever in the nicest possible way, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He sent out one more message, to every ship. “This is Admiral Geary. We’ve been on wartime status since leaving Varandal. When we arrive in Dancer space that changes. All ships are to be at peacetime readiness. Shields at standard strength, no weapons powered up, fire control systems inactive. We’re already going to look aggressive just by showing up without an invitation. I want to ensure nothing we do or display creates an impression that we’re there for anything but peaceful discussions. Remember, these are the people who helped us at Unity Alternate and at Midway. It’s vitally important that this mission succeed. I expect everyone in the fleet to put their best efforts into making that happen. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

  One hour and fifteen minutes later, the fleet jumped for the Dancer star.

  * * *

  IT should have been a calm few days in jump space. The dangers of Syndicate Worlds–controlled space and enigma-controlled space were past. Ahead lay the Dancers, who to the best of the fleet’s knowledge had never attacked humanity and in fact had offered critical help more than once.

  But Boundless, the hopeful embassy to the Dancers, was a snake pit in ways that resembled more attempts to sabotage the mission. And the reaction of the Dancers to the arrival of a human fleet in their space couldn’t be predicted. They’d never displayed hostility toward humans, but it was entirely possible they’d respond to the arrival of the fleet by telling the humans to go home.

  During the first day in jump, Dr. Nasr stopped by Geary’s stateroom, nodding politely as he entered. “Admiral, I thought you should know that I spoke with Dr. Galen before we entered jump.”

  Geary leaned back in his seat, clenching his eyes shut. “Does she want to autopsy me?”

  “At first,” Dr. Nasr said. Geary opened his eyes to see Nasr grinning. “She was very unhappy with me as well. But I explained. I told her that if what you did succeeded, it might mean no more battles like the one we’d just fought at this star. That it might help us break the deadlock with the enigmas, and finally forge a peace agreement.”

  “I hope you didn’t overpromise,” Geary said. “That’s my hope. I have no idea if it will work out that way.”

  “But it is a hope,” Dr. Nasr said. “One that did not exist before. In light of that, Dr. Galen, reluctantly, agreed with your decision.”

  “Thank you,” Geary said, his voice growing quieter. “But you deserve more credit than I do. If you hadn’t spoken up and persisted I might never have thought of doing something other than what we’d automatically do.”

  “It was my responsibility, Admiral,” Dr. Nasr said.

  “Not everyone would have thought so.” He nodded to Dr. Nasr. “If it works at all, maybe we’ll have less fighting. I’ve given this fleet’s doctors far too much work.”

  “You’ve given us far less to do than your predecessors, Admiral.”

  “Please sit down,” Geary said. “How’s everything going?”

  “Mostly well,” Dr. Nasr said, taking a seat opposite Geary. “These days, it’s mostly stability work for officers and sailors dealing with the memories of actions and events that haunt all of us. If we could see the ghosts following this fleet it would form an armada that filled space.”

  “I wish you had something that would make the ghosts go away,” Geary said. “Instead of just making them less painful and horrible.”

  “Do you truly wish that, Admiral? Would you truly want to forget?”

  He thought about that, about forgetting the crew of Merlon, forgetting the people he’d known a century ago who had aged and died while he was frozen in survival sleep, about forgetting those he’d come to know in this difficult future but would never meet again in life. The memories brought a lot of pain, but also a lot more. “I guess not,” Geary finally said. “I owe them remembrance.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Nasr said. “I think so, too. The best we can do is to help people cope with the ghosts that follow them, so that the memories evoke a smile rather than tears or anger. It’s not perfect. Perhaps it’s not even right. But I think it’s better than anything else anyone has tried or suggested.” He paused, sighing. “I have some particular ghosts following me. Those Kicks we captured and tried to save.”

  Geary didn’t have to refresh his memory of that. The Kicks, so named by the fleet’s sailors as a shorthand for Krazy Kows, were cute, cuddly-looking herbivores who looked like crosses between cows and teddy bears. They also saw the universe as divided between their Herd and whatever the Herd needed, and everything and everybody else. To them, humans were just another species of meat-eating predators it made no sense to talk to. Meat-eating predators simply had to be wiped out before they ate any of the Herd.

  “That was not your fault,” Geary said. “No one could have saved them. Not when they could will themselves to death when they realized they’d been captured. In retrospect, we should have put them in an escape pod while they were unconscious and let them go.” He grimaced. “That wouldn’t have worked, though. We would have had to go back to that Kick-controlled star system to do that, and the fleet barely made it out intact the first time we went there.”

  “I could have pushed harder,” Dr. Nasr said, frowning. “I could have tried harder to get those ‘humanitarians’ who insisted on awakening the Kicks to understand that would result in the deaths of the Kicks.”

  “Their refusal to listen to you does not reflect poorly on you,” Geary said. “I know how hard you pushed. The deaths of those Kicks should not be on your conscience.”

  “Do you carry no deaths that should not be on your conscience, Admiral?”

  “That’s not a fair question,” Geary said. “And as the doctor here you’re supposed to help me feel better, not worse.”

  Nasr smiled. “Speaking of feeling better, you’ve read my reports on crew morale. It’s surprisingly good.”

  “I’m getting similar reports from throughout the fleet,” Geary said. Except for on Boundless. “I’m glad, though I’m not sure what I’ve done right.”

  “The one-sided victory at Lalotai didn’t hurt,” Dr. Nasr said. “But I think the main cause is a sense of purpose. Almost every sailor in the fleet feels that they are helping to accomplish important things. That’s always big when it comes to morale. Is what I’m doing going to matter? And if it does matter, will that be for good or ill? Our crews believe they’re part of something that will make a long-term difference, and one for the better.”

  “Not all of them,” Geary said. “I know medical ethics constrain what you can tell me about what individual sailors tell you, but . . .”

  “But medical confidentiality does not apply to matters that reasonably might involve danger to individuals or to the ship,” Nasr said, quoting the relevant regulation. “Admiral, I’ve had some individuals express concerns, misgivings, about the intent of the Dancers. But, based on my experience and the medical readouts during examinations, I haven’t heard anything that implies intent to take unauthorized actions.”

  “Good. Thanks.” They talked a bit more, reminiscing about people and places. After Dr. Nasr left, Geary realized that he felt a whole lot better inside. I need to give that doctor a medal.

  The next day, a pair of visitors showed up at his stateroom, Colonel Rogero and Kommodor Bradamont both acting formal in a way that broadcast this was not a social encounter. “Admiral,” Bradamont said, “we’d like to clarify something before we reach Dancer space. Would you authorize a link so that Colonel Rogero and I can monitor conversations with the Dancers from this ship?”

  “I can’t do that,” Geary said, holding up a hand to forestall Bradamont’s objections. “I can’t authorize any links to anywhere. Because our technicians are worried that establishing a link to that transmitter will allow the Dancer software to migrate across the link.”

  “You can’t stop that?” Colonel Rogero asked, surprised. “There aren’t any firewalls effective against the Dancer software?”

  “We don’t know,” Geary said. “What we do know is that the Dancers sent us the software to allow us to use one of our transmitters as a communications device and a translator with them. We know the Dancer software, when loaded into an isolated transmitter, somehow adapted to our hardware. Every attempt to analyze the Dancer software has fizzled out. It’s making our best code monkeys tear their hair out. We still don’t know how that software works, or what all it can do. Which is why I can’t authorize any links.