“The formation at Sancere was made up of new ships with barely trained crews,” Desjani pointed out. “Like the one we encountered here, but I’d guess a little better trained.”
“So?” Rione pressed. “Why should that matter? How do the crews influence what the ships do when maneuvering orders are given? Aren’t the motions of warships controlled by automated systems?”
Geary nodded, realizing that was a perfectly reasonable question. “Right. At the velocities warships move, it’s almost always crazy to try maneuvering manually.”
“Then why would their amount of training and experience make a difference?”
Desjani spoke like an instructor, apparently oblivious to Rione’s obvious annoyance with her tone. “There are three stages of training and experience with maneuvering warships. The least experienced simply don’t trust the automated maneuvering systems, since we all know any automated system can suffer errors. What creates the most problems is that as relativistic distortion effects come into play, human instincts are thrown off. We think the maneuvering systems are doing the wrong thing because our senses and our experiences in a much slower environment don’t match what we seem to be seeing and feeling when moving at tenths of light speed.
“Crews at that most inexperienced stage are the most likely to panic, decide that the maneuvering systems are in serious error, and try to manage the maneuvers themselves.” Desjani waved one hand toward the display. “You saw what happens then. It takes a good amount of time to learn enough to accept that the maneuvering systems know what they’re doing and to understand what will happen if you override them. That’s the second stage of experience. Those who last long enough come to realize that even automated maneuvering systems can suffer miscalculations and failures sometimes, and that they really do need to be overridden on rare occasions. Then you have to know when to override and what to do, which is the third stage of experience.”
Desjani smiled at Geary. “Correct, sir?”
“That’s how it was in my time, too. It takes a lot of time moving at point one and up to point two light to develop the instincts needed to correctly second-guess the automated systems.” He gestured from Rione to the display. “I say instincts, because it has to happen below the level of conscious thought. There’s not enough time for our brains to process it. And even then, only a fool would try to override the autos in a combat situation when two formations are passing through each other. By the time you realized you were going to hit something, you’d already be part of a ball of plasma from the collision.”
“Thank you,” Rione answered in a flat voice. “Then the answer to your question seems obvious. They thought you might bring this fleet here, but didn’t consider it the mostly likely place. It may have been the least likely in their judgment. They left something in place just in case, but didn’t really expect that force to end up confronting this fleet.”
Geary glanced at Desjani, who nodded. “That seems plausible. But why assume this was the least likely destination for the fleet?”
Rione swung her arm in a grand gesture and spoke with broad exaggeration. “Because the great Black Jack Geary has repeatedly demonstrated that he doesn’t make straight runs for Alliance space. He moves carefully, trying to avoid the obvious destinations in favor of ones that the Syndics are liable to judge unlikely.”
That made sense. “They’re trying to second-guess me based on my patterns of movements so far, but in this case I did something uncharacteristic.”
“Uncharacteristic is one word for it,” Rione agreed sarcastically.
“It worked,” Desjani noted in a sharp voice, instantly reacting in defense of Geary.
“But we can’t count on it working again,” Rione replied in a tone just as blunt. “You can see, the first of the Syndic Hunter-Killers is already heading for a jump point. It will carry news of where the Alliance fleet is, and then the Syndics will see a new pattern in the movements of this fleet.”
“Yes,” Geary broke in quickly to keep the argument from escalating. “You’re both right.” That didn’t seem to make anyone happy, though. “I need to think about our next destination. Thanks for your insights, Captain Desjani and Madam Co-President.” He stood up, stiff from sitting since the fleet’s arrival at Ixion.
Rione stood as well, accompanying Geary off the bridge. She waited until they were temporarily alone in a passageway before speaking once more. “It won’t work again.”
“I told you I need to think about it,” Geary answered, a little harsher than he had intended.
“It shouldn’t take that much thought. I know the next star on the straightest possible line to Alliance space is T’negu. If we go there, this fleet will find a trap far deadlier than those poor fools we encountered here.”
“You could be right.”
“I am right! Even if I don’t know all those little details of fleet operations that you and Captain Tanya Desjani enjoy sharing with each other!”
He stopped and glared at Rione. “Is that about the experience question? You asked, and we answered. And you’re supposed to be working to disprove rumors that you’re jealous of Captain Desjani!”
“Jealous?” Rione shook her head and smiled, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes. “Not likely. I just want you to remember that Captain Desjani worships the space you sail through. That influences her advice to you. She doesn’t think you can fail.”
“That’s—” Geary reined in his temper. “All right, I’ll admit that’s important to remember. I haven’t forgotten it. Now, I repeat, I haven’t decided on where we’ll go from here. Please wait until I’ve reached a decision before informing me how wrong it is.”
“I’ll be happy to wait until then.” Rione sighed and ran one hand through her hair. “I’m not trying to be a bitch about this. I’m worried. This lunge toward Alliance space has gone far smoother than we had any right to expect. You’re surprised, too, aren’t you? Thank you for admitting that. There’s a fine line between the confidence needed to command this fleet effectively and the overconfidence that will doom it.”
There wasn’t any trace of mockery or anger in her now that Geary could see, so he responded in the same reasonable tones. “I understand that. I know I need someone whom I trust second-guessing me.”
“Someone who knows you’re human,” Rione emphasized.
“I know I’m not what people think Black Jack is.”
“I realize that. But…” This time Rione frowned. “Are you jealous of him?”
That came as a total surprise. “What?”
“Are you jealous of Black Jack? The great hero who can win any battle? Do you want to prove you could be just as good as him?”
“No! That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it?” Rione just watched Geary for a few seconds. “Many of your most devoted followers, even certain captains, idolize Black Jack and not necessarily you. Any human would find that frustrating.”
“Certain captains know who I am by now.” But Geary couldn’t help wondering. He did get angry when Black Jack came up, almost as if the myth were a rival to the real man. “I don’t think I’m trying to prove anything.”
“Thank you for qualifying your statement. All I can ask is that you be aware of the fact that envy of Black Jack might skew your thinking.” Rione shook her head. “I still think this dash toward Alliance space was a dangerous thing to do. It worked out this far, but it’s left us at Ixion with the Syndics drawing in again. And I wonder if you did it in part because it’s what Black Jack would have done.”
Maybe he had. After all, the fleet’s captains had been restive again, wanting to see progress in getting home, wanting to do something not necessarily cautious but courageous. He’d known that, and he’d given them what they wanted. “I can’t ignore what the fleet’s officers expect and want. You know that.”