“Certainly,” Bradamont said, gesturing to Rogero.

  As soon as they, too, had left the secure conference room, Geary looked at the others. “There’s a critical matter of which some of you are already aware. The rest of you need to know of it.” He quickly summarized what was known of the conspiracy, as Captains Duellos and Badaya and General Carabali listened with increasing concern.

  “And you trust the source of this information?” Captain Badaya asked when Geary had finished.

  “Yes,” Geary said. “I don’t want to reveal who the source is, but regard their information as absolutely reliable.”

  “Admiral,” General Carabali said, her brow furrowed with worry, “you have a reputation for unconventional tactics, but . . . why leave the battleships when you go to the Taon if you’re concerned some of their commanding officers are disloyal and plotting to start a war with the Dancers?”

  “Because at this time the plotters have the initiative,” Geary said. “They can decide when and where to act, without much if any warning. I want to give them a perfect opportunity to act, and have them know that opportunity is coming.”

  Captain Armus nodded, smiling. “I understand now. Captain Pelleas and Captain Burdock, and any others in league with them, will regard the admiral’s departure as also being proof their plot is not suspected. They will be emboldened to act. And we will be ready, knowing they will choose that time.”

  “You will be ready,” Geary said. “Captain Armus, I want you to know that I decided on this plan knowing that you would be in command in my absence.”

  As Captain Armus appeared to swell visibly with pride at the compliment, General Carabali nodded, her eyes hooded in thought. “The Marine detachments on the battleships will have to be ready to act. Colossus and Dreadnaught are definitely not a danger. Are there any others we can be sure of?”

  “Reprisal,” Tanya Desjani said. “They wouldn’t let a commander from the Callas Republic in on this.”

  “And Warspite,” Geary said. “Captain Plant is definitely loyal.”

  “I think also Captain Casia on Conquerer,” Jane Geary said, “as well as Captain Cordoba on Glorious.”

  “That’s six out of twenty battleships,” Carabali noted. “We really can’t be surer of how many others are in league with Pelleas and Burdock?”

  “We can’t ask them,” Desjani said. “I’m certain that a lot more than six are dependable.”

  “Yes,” Geary said. “That’s why we think the plotters will use a fake order to lure in more ships. Those captains would believe they were following a real order, while the plotters could claim to have been fooled as well and be just as innocent of deliberate wrongdoing. Some other ships, such as Warspite, are supposed to be crippled by malware to prevent them from intervening. But we’ll be ready for all that. Before I leave, I’ll record orders telling everyone in the fleet not to fire on Dancer ships under any circumstances. Our source will be given a copy of the malware, but instead of planting it in their ship’s systems will provide it to their commanding officer. By the time the plotters try to activate the malware our code monkeys should’ve worked out a counter for it. They’ll broadcast their fake order from me, Captain Armus will see who responds immediately, and broadcast my real orders. Any commanding officer who does not respond to my real orders will be relieved of command by the Marine detachment aboard their ship.”

  “And the conspiracy will be thoroughly dismantled,” Desjani said.

  “I’d hoped the fleet was past these kinds of things,” Carabali said, shaking her head.

  “Not yet,” Geary said. “The institutional damage caused by a century-long war isn’t so easily put aside. But we will get past them someday, because the Alliance can count on officers such as all of you. I’ll provide more detailed planning for all of you before I leave this star system.”

  “And bait the trap,” Captain Armus said.

  After the meeting ended and the virtual forms of most of the remaining participants vanished or left, Jane Geary and Roberto Duellos lingered. “When this goes down,” Jane said, “no one is going to have any question about whether the other Gearys stand with Captain Armus.”

  “I never doubted that,” Geary said. “Thank you, Captain.”

  Jane grinned and saluted before her virtual presence vanished.

  That left Geary and Tanya Desjani alone with the virtual presence of Captain Duellos.

  “Admiral,” Duellos began, his voice carefully controlled, “you had a reaction when I mentioned Ensign Duellos earlier. Can you tell me whether she is in any particular danger as a result of this conspiracy? Perhaps because I’m seen as such a strong supporter of you?”

  Geary looked at Desjani, who gazed back in a way that made it clear she wasn’t going to try to influence his decision. Duellos had given him a perfect out for admitting to special peril for his daughter without disclosing her role in everything.

  But he could not betray Duellos that way.

  Geary sat down again, gesturing to Duellos to do the same. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Does my daughter know who this source is?” Duellos asked, staying on his feet. “Is that why she is in danger?”

  “Your daughter is the source,” Geary said.

  Roberto Duellos frowned in puzzlement. “You said the source was part of—” He stopped speaking, his face stricken. “Why?”

  “They played on her patriotism,” Desjani said, “pretending this was about supporting the Alliance, and the admiral. When she realized what it was really about, she went to Captain Plant and disclosed everything.”

  “I see.” Duellos seemed to have aged twenty years in a moment of time. “Conspiring . . . against lawful authority . . . during combat operations.”

  “Which calls for the death penalty,” Geary said, knowing why Duellos had said that. “Except in exceptional circumstances.”

  “You cannot play favorites, Admiral.”

  “This has nothing to do with playing favorites,” Geary insisted, standing up as well to emphasize his words. “If your daughter had been caught being part of such a conspiracy, it would’ve been almost impossible to justify not ordering such a penalty. But she came forward. She gave us the break we needed, the information we’d been looking for, and if we successfully foil this conspiracy as we plan to it will be thanks to her. Those are exceptional circumstances, Captain Duellos.”

  Duellos closed his eyes, breathing slowly, before finally looking at Geary again. “How does Captain Plant feel about that?”

  “She’s been broadly hinting that Ensign Duellos deserves special consideration for her contributions to taking down this conspiracy,” Geary said.

  Duellos sagged as if his muscles could no longer hold him. He finally sat, carefully, as if afraid of falling. “Plant and I have never been close. And her reputation as the hardest captain in the fleet will work against any claim of favoritism.”

  “Excuse me?” Tanya Desjani leaned in toward Duellos. “Who did you say is the hardest captain in the fleet?”

  “Plant is the second-hardest captain,” Duellos said, managing to muster a slight smile that quickly vanished. “This conspiracy . . . they tried to kill the admiral.”

  “That’s right,” Geary said.

  “Your daughter’s life is in danger,” Desjani said. “Not from the fleet. From the same conspirators who killed that sailor and tried to kill the admiral. If they learn that Ensign Duellos is telling us everything she knows . . .”

  “They’ll kill her.” Captain Duellos sat silent and unmoving for several seconds. “Why can’t we take her with us? Transfer her to any battle cruiser—”

  “Ensign Duellos will let Captain Plant, and through her Captain Armus, know the moment she gets that malware,” Geary said. “And turn it over to them. It’s critical that she carries that out.”

  “Anything we do to protect her,” Desjani said, “will focus attention on her. You know that, Roberto.”

  “Yes,” Duellos said, sounding as if he was in pain. “As I know that Arwen must earn a pardon for her serious mistake in getting involved in this. The living stars demand great efforts to make up for great errors. But . . . she’s my girl.”

  “Captain Plant will see that she’s protected,” Geary said, regretting the need to delegate that task to Plant rather than seeing to it himself. Didn’t he owe that to Duellos? “Nothing can happen until the moment the plotters move. Then, the moment they realize their malware has been compromised, Ensign Duellos will be surrounded by a solid wall of Marines.”

  Duellos nodded, his movements still those of an old man. “It’s hard to let go. I know she’s already her own person. I’d hoped I taught her well about the dangers and the rights and wrongs of this universe, but . . .”

  “She’s doing the right thing,” Geary said.

  Another nod. “Ensigns make mistakes. It’s what they do. I didn’t expect a mistake quite this large.”

  Desjani spoke again. “She’s making it right. She decided that on her own. She seems to be a lot like her father.”

  “I hope she’s wiser than her father has ever been.” Duellos nodded a third time, standing with careful movements. “I do understand why you couldn’t tell me before this. Her best protection was keeping as few as possible aware. It’s going to be hard saying goodbye to her before we jump for the Taon star, saying goodbye without letting on that anything unusual is happening. Thank you for informing me now, Admiral. I know you had every professional right to avoid doing so.”

  “Professionals look out for their people,” Geary said. “Do you want to stay here? I can work out justifications for leaving the First Battle Cruiser Division here as backup for the battleships.”

  “No,” Duellos said, his voice firm and his posture straightening. “My daughter has made a serious error, and is working on her own to make it right. She is her own person. I’m very worried about what might happen to her, but I should not create a situation in which it appears I might have been directing her.” He glanced at Desjani. “Besides which, you might well need my battle cruisers at that Taon star. Professionals get the job done. In this, too, I have to be the role model my daughter deserves. Despite how hard that will be.”

  When Duellos had also departed, Geary looked at Tanya. “This discussion about responsibilities to a child reminded me of my great-nephew Michael never mentioning having children. But Jane Geary told me once that her brother Michael had three children, and when I asked Michael about that before he left it was . . . awkward.”

  Tanya shook her head. “I already told you that’s something you need to ask Jane about.”

  “Do you know the answer? Why is this a mystery?”

  “It’s not a mystery. It’s a tragedy. Ask Jane.”

  The last thing he wanted to spend time on right now was a personal matter, but he knew if he didn’t follow up it would distract his every thought. With an exasperated grunt, Geary sat down and called Captain Jane Geary again.

  When her virtual presence reappeared in the conference room, Jane gave him a curious look. “Is this about Captain Duellos? Did you tell him who the source was?”

  “We told him who the source was,” Geary said. “But this isn’t about that. It’s a personal matter. A family matter. You told me once that Michael had three children.”

  “Oh.” Jane made a face and rubbed her forehead. She sat down in the matching conference room aboard Dreadnaught, appearing to sit opposite Geary. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “He did have children? What happened to them?”

  Her expression twisted. “I’ve told you about how being a Geary, the Geary curse, impacted me and Michael, but you never experienced it. You never lived it.”

  Jane’s voice didn’t sound accusing, but he still felt defensive. “I’ve been living with the Black Jack nonsense for a while now.”

  “It’s not nonsense!” Jane said, her voice sharp. “A lot of our family died because of it. Call it a curse. Because that’s what it is. You’ve met Michael again. You know how he feels about the Geary legacy.” Jane shook her head, looking down at the palm of one of her hands as if a message were written there. “We tried to live our lives. I never tried to start a family of my own, though. I wouldn’t put them through that. Michael and I made a vow to end the Geary line with us so no other kids would have to grow up with that fate dominating their every moment.”

  She sighed. “But, Michael . . . hell, he fell in love. A wonderful girl, he said. And realized he wanted kids. Convinced himself they could be okay if their last names weren’t Geary and they lived on an out-of-the-way planet in an out-of-the-way star system and they never learned who they were related to. But then Kahoku died. Some sort of accident. Michael was out on a campaign. What public records existed there used a false identity for him. None of Kahoku’s family had ever met him. So when the local authorities asked the fleet to notify Kahoku’s husband the answer came back that no such officer existed, and everyone concluded that Michael had been one of those sailors with a wife and family on more than one planet. Michael told me by the time he heard about Kahoku his kids had already been taken in by part of her family. And that’s how he left it, so they’d never suffer from the Geary curse.”

  Jane looked at Geary. “So there’s your answer. Yes, Michael has children. But they have no idea who he is, and he hasn’t been in contact with them since before Kahoku died.”

  Geary stared at her, stunned. “But . . . but now . . . why couldn’t he . . .”

  “Because he knows the real you.” Jane smiled in a slow, sad sort of way. “If you’d been the boogeyman Michael and I grew up thinking you were, maybe he’d be okay tracking them down now. But he knows you. No, you’re not Black Jack. You’re the guy who finally won the war and ended the slaughter. You’re the guy who’s held the fleet together and reminded us all that we serve the Alliance and the Alliance serves the people of the Alliance. You’re the guy who finally found aliens. Michael is more afraid now that if those kids learn who they are they’ll want to be like you, they’ll go off into space, and maybe never come home, not because they have to anymore, but because they’ll want to be like you.”

  As Geary wrestled with his feelings and his thoughts, Tanya spoke up.

  “Like Roberto Duellos and his daughter,” Desjani said.

  Close to a minute passed in silence while Geary tried to sort out this news. “What should I do?” he finally asked.

  “Great-uncle,” Jane Geary said, “with all due respect, it’s not your decision to make.”

  “But don’t those kids . . .” They weren’t kids now, were they? Teens. The eldest a young adult from what Jane had once told him. “Don’t they have a right to know who their ancestors are? To make their own decisions about this?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that,” Jane said. “I do know if you seek out those children on your own Michael will never forgive you. Get his approval first or let it go.”

  “I was taught,” Tanya said, “that our ancestors always know. Even if we lose track of them, they always know who we are. Your ancestors are surely looking out for Michael’s children.”

  Jane nodded. “If they’re meant to know who they are, it’ll happen. Checking their DNA against the fleet databases will give them that answer if they seek it.”

  Not knowing what else to say, Geary nodded back to Jane. “Thank you for letting me know. When we get back to Alliance space I’ll talk to Michael.”

  “Don’t assume he’ll want to talk to you about it.” Jane stood up. “And don’t worry about this conspiracy, Admiral. You’re baiting a trap that Captain Armus, Captain Plant, General Carabali, and I will all bring down hard. We’ll make every effort to protect Ensign Duellos when that happens.”

  “I know,” Geary said. “I also know her safety isn’t guaranteed. You need a contingency plan if the conspirators figure out she’s turned on them and . . .” It was very hard to think about, let alone say. “Attempt to silence her before she can turn the malware over to Captain Plant.”

  “We’ll be prepared if that happens,” Jane said. “But, as you say, no guarantees.”

  * * *

  IT came as a welcome relief that the Taon didn’t wait on a reply from the humans, sending another invitation that came in while the Alliance fleet was still short of reaching the Dancer planet. The six Taon ships had broken orbit about the gas giant and were heading for the same planet.

  Lokaa spoke with the same enthusiasm as before. “Welcome human! Come Taon! Be friend! Bring all ships!”

  Ambassador Rycerz, who now that she had control of the transmitter on Boundless had indeed been personally going over every message intended for the Dancers and looked just as worn-out as expected from that, gave Geary an aggravated wave-off when he asked for approval to reply. “Take care of it.”

  He called Charban first. “Do you know if our direct questions to the Dancers about the Taon have been sent from Boundless yet?”

  Charban shook his head, his expression carefully unrevealing. “No, they have not.”

  If Rycerz wanted him to handle this, she had to let him handle it. “Send them from our transmitter,” he told Charban. Then he sent the ambassador a message informing her that he’d sent the Dancers some messages dealing with fleet safety and security issues.

  That still left replying to the Taon message.

  Geary sent his reply from his stateroom, trying to look friendly but also a little reserved. How that would appear to a Taon he had no idea. “This is Admiral Geary of the Alliance fleet. We are happy to have made contact with your species and are honored to have received your invitation. Our primary purpose here is to meet with representatives of the species which controls this star system. For this reason, we have to discuss the matter with that species before we commit for some of our ships to visit Taon. Please be patient as we work to resolve this problem. To the honor of our ancestors. Geary, out.”