Dakk said, ‘All because of my one damn torpedo.’
‘Because of the intelligence you will give away, yes. You made one of the first uses of the monopole weapon. So after your engagement the Xeelee knew we had it. The fallback order you disregarded was based on a decision at higher levels not to deploy the monopole weapon at the Fog engagement, to reserve it for later. By proceeding through the chop line you undermined the decision of your superiors.’
‘I couldn’t have known that such a decision had been made.’
‘We argue that, reasonably, you should have been able to judge that. Your error will cause great suffering, unnecessary death. The Tolman data proves it. Your judgement was wrong.’
So there it was. The Galaxy diagram collapsed into pixels. Tarco stiffened beside me, and Dakk fell silent.
Varcin said to me, ‘Ensign, I know this is hard for you. But perhaps you can see now why you were appointed prosecutor advocate.’
‘I think so, sir.’
‘And will you endorse my recommendations?’
I thought it through. What would I do in the heat of battle, in Dakk’s position? Why, just the same – and that was what must be stopped, to avert this huge future disaster. Of course I would endorse the Commission’s conclusion. What else could I do? It was my duty.
We still had to go through the formalities of the court of inquiry, and no doubt the court martial to follow. But the verdicts seemed inevitable.
You’d think I was beyond surprise by now, but what came next took me aback.
Varcin stood between us, my present and future selves. ‘We will be pressing for heavy sanctions.’
‘I’m sure Captain Dakk will accept whatever—’
‘There will be sanctions against you too, ensign. Sorry.’
I would not be busted out of the Navy, I learned. But a Letter of Reprimand would go into my file, which would ensure that I would never rise to the rank of captain – in fact, I would likely not be given postings in space at all.
It was a lot to absorb, all at once. But even as Varcin outlined it, I started to see the logic. To change the future you can only act in the present. There was nothing to be done about Dakk’s personal history; she would carry around what she had done for the rest of her life, a heavy burden. But, for the sake of the course of the war, my life would be trashed, so that I could never become her, and never do what she had done.
Not only that, any application I made to have a child with Tarco would not be granted after all. Hama would never be born. The Commissaries wanted to make doubly sure nobody ever climbed on board that Sunrise torpedo.
I looked at Tarco. His face was blank. We had never had a relationship, not really – never actually had that child – and yet it was all being taken away from us, becoming no more real than one of Varcin’s catalogued futures.
‘Some love story,’ I said.
‘Yeah. Shame, buttface.’
‘Yes.’ I think we both knew right there that we would drift apart. We’d probably never even talk about it properly.
Tarco turned to Varcin. ‘Sir, I have to ask—’
‘Nothing significant changes for you, ensign,’ said Varcin softly. ‘You still rise to exec on the Torch – you will be a capable officer—’
‘I still don’t come home from the Fog.’
‘No. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be, sir.’ He actually sounded relieved. I don’t know if I admired that or not.
Dakk looked straight ahead. ‘Sir. Don’t do this. Don’t erase the glory.’
‘I have no choice.’
Dakk’s mouth worked. Then she spoke shrilly. ‘You fucking Commissaries sit in your gilded nests. Handing out destinies like petty gods. Do you ever even doubt what you are doing?’
‘All the time, Captain,’ Varcin said sadly. He put a hand on Dakk’s shoulder. ‘We will take care of you. You aren’t alone. We have many other relics of lost futures. Some of them are from much further downstream than you. Many have stories which are – interesting.’
‘But,’ said Dakk stiffly, ‘my career is finished.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’
There was a heartbeat of tension. Then something seemed to go out of Dakk. ‘Well, I guess I crashed through another chop line. My whole life is never going to happen. And I don’t even have the comfort of popping out of existence.’
I faced Dakk. ‘Why did you do it?’
Her smile was twisted. ‘Why would you do it? Because it was worth it, ensign. Because we struck at the Xeelee. Because Hama – our son – gave his life in the best possible way.’
At last I thought I understood her.
We were, after all, the same person. As I had grown up it had been drummed into me that there was no honour in growing old – and something in Dakk, even now, despite all she had gone through, still felt the same way. After surviving her earlier engagements she was not content to be a living hero. On some deep level she was ashamed to be alive. So she had let Hama, our lost child, live out her own dream – a dream of certain youthful death. Even though in the process she violated orders. Even though it damaged humanity’s cause. And now she envied Hama his moment of glorious youthful suicide, even though it was an incident lost in a vanished future.
I think Dakk wanted to say more, but I turned away. I was aware I was out of my depth; counselling your elder self over the erasure of her whole career, not to mention her child, isn’t exactly a situation you come across every day.
Anyhow I was feeling elated. Despite disgrace for a crime I’d never committed, despite my own screwed-up career, despite the loss of a baby I would never know, despite the wrecking of any relationship I might have had with Tarco, I was relieved. Frankly, I was glad I wouldn’t turn into the beat-up egomaniac I saw before me. And I would never have to live through this scene again, standing on the other side of the room, looking back at my own face.
Is that cruel? I couldn’t help it. I was free.
Tarco had a question to ask. ‘Sir – do we win?’
Varcin kept his face expressionless. He clapped his hands, and the images over our heads changed.
It was as if the scale expanded.
I saw fleets with ships more numerous than the stars. I saw planets burn, stars flare and die. I saw the Galaxy reduced to a wraith of crimson stars that guttered like dying candles. I saw people – but people like none I’d ever heard of: people living on lonely outposts suspended in empty intergalactic spaces, people swimming through the interior of stars, people trapped in abstract environments I couldn’t even recognise. I saw shining people who flew through space, naked as gods.
And I saw people dying, in great waves, unnumbered hordes of them.
Varcin said, ‘We think there is a major crux in the next few millennia. A vital engagement at the centre of the Galaxy. Many of the history sheaves seem to converge at that point. Beyond that everything is uncertain. The farther downstream, the more misty are the visions, the more strange the protagonists, even the humans … There are paths to a glorious future, an awesome future of mankind victorious. And there are paths that lead to defeat – even extinction, all human possibilities extinguished. Your question isn’t a simple one, ensign.’
Dakk, Tarco and I shared glances. Our intertwined destinies were complex. But I bet the three of us had only one thought in our minds at that moment: that we were glad we were mere Navy tars, that we did not have to deal with this.