But had the aliens brainwashed him?
It was a constant worry whenever someone had spent a long time in captivity. Human minds, struggling to defend themselves, started empathising with their captors, even to the point of joining them. Stockholm Syndrome didn’t just make hostages untrustworthy as rescue forces stormed terrorist lairs. It kept abused partners and children with their abusers, convincing them they deserved their treatment… and that was without drugs or direct mental manipulation warping their judgement. James had few illusions. Given enough time, there wasn’t anyone, no matter how loyal or patriotic, who couldn’t be turned into a dagger aimed at his own country. It had happened before and it would no doubt happen again.
The doctor saw no signs of tampering, he thought, and could the aliens really do a perfect job of it? They’ve only had a handful of years to study living humans…
He shook his head. There was no way to know. It was just another uncertainty in a mission that had too many of them already.
“We have to take the risk,” the Admiral said. “I’d be happy holding the talks somewhere neutral, but we don’t seem to have that option. Instead…”
He cleared his throat. “We will pass through the tramline here,” he said, tapping the display. “The aliens will be asked to stay with us until we pass through, just in case. We don’t want our course to be predicable.”
“It will be,” James said, bluntly. He understood the Admiral’s concern — and he trusted his judgement — but far too much could go wrong. “We won’t be remotely stealthy if we have an alien ship escorting us.”
“I know,” the Admiral said. He looked down at the table. “I want to detach Holmes from the flotilla. She is to make her way back to Earth, under very tight stealth, carrying a complete copy of our translation algorithms, reports and whatever else can be copied over. If the doctors agree, she is to take Miss Pearlman too. I think it would be better for her to be returned to Earth.”
James frowned. “You don’t want to send the Prince back too?”
“I think we will need him in the future,” the Admiral said. “And he is a trained starfighter pilot, if we dare clear him for duty. Miss Pearlman is none of those things.”
James considered it. It was quite likely the King would be furious at hearing his son had been recovered, but not sent back to Earth at once. The political questions that everyone had thought had died with the Prince would be reopened, starting with the old issue of just who would succeed the Throne. But he understood the Admiral’s decision. Prince Henry could still be useful.
“Miss Pearlman might be helpful,” he pointed out. “Or do you think she can’t be any more informative?”
“We don’t seem to need her any longer,” the Admiral said. “And she needs better treatment than we can supply onboard the ship. She’s on the verge of collapse, James. The aliens didn’t realise it, we think, but they were slowly starving her to death. She needs specialised treatment on Earth.”
“Don’t let the doctors hear you say that,” James said, dryly. “But I understand. Besides, she might just be the last heir to the Heinlein Foundation’s Trust.”
“If they let her claim it,” the Admiral mused. He shook his head. “Prepare your ship for departure, Captain. And pray that this isn’t all an elaborate trick.”
James looked up at the starchart. The spider’s web of tramlines shone through alien space, showing a handful of potential hub systems for the alien civilisation. One of them, he was sure, was the alien homeworld. But it was impossible to be sure which one. The aliens, apparently, had flatly declined to discuss the location of their homeworld with their human counterparts. Under the circumstances, James knew, it was very hard to blame them.
They attacked our homeworld, he thought, sourly. Why wouldn’t we attack theirs?
He thought of the bioweapon and went cold.
“Jill’s going back to Earth?”
“Yes,” Janelle said. There was an odd note to her voice. “Will you miss her?”
Henry sat upright. Of course… Janelle would have seen Jill, naked as the day she was born, accompanying him back to Ark Royal. Perhaps she’d wondered what they’d done together, when there had been no hope of getting back to Earth. Or perhaps she was simply concerned…
“I’m glad she’s getting treatment,” he said. The thought of slowly wasting away was horrific, but it would have happened if they hadn’t returned to the Old Lady. “We never felt anything badly wrong.”
“The doctors think you might have been fed painkillers as well,” Janelle said. “We know they drug some of their captives. They could just have been experimenting with the dose.”
Henry winced. “Didn’t the blood tests come up negative?”
“They didn’t find anything we recognised,” Janelle confirmed. “But they might well have missed something, if it had time to filter out of your bloodstream.”
“Never mind,” Henry said, sharply. He shook his head. They’d allowed him to watch the negotiations through the monitors, but not to actually take part. “Are we going further into alien space now?”
“So it would seem,” Janelle said, slowly. “How do you feel about that?”
“I… don’t care where I go, as long as I go with you,” Henry said. It had been a famous line from one of the romantic movies Elizabeth had loved to watch, before she’d realised just how many frogs she would have to kiss before she found her Prince Charming. “I…”
He ducked as Janelle picked up a terminal and waved it at him threateningly. She wasn’t the sort of person to be impressed by romantic platitudes.
“I don’t know how I feel,” he admitted, instead. “I want to get it over with, Janelle, but I also don’t want to go home.”
Janelle patted his shoulder, then kissed his forehead.
“You probably should record a message for your family,” she said. “I believe everyone else in the crew will be doing the same.”
Henry sighed. Part of him was still insanely tempted to try to convince the Admiral to leave him out of his report. But it wasn’t even remotely possible.
“I will,” he said, reluctantly. What did one say to a family that had burned a casket, then mourned him? Had they mourned publically, knowing the media would crucify them if they didn’t, or had they tried to keep their grief to themselves? Had they felt grief at all? Or had Elizabeth envied him for escaping the media? “But I honestly don’t know what I’m going to tell them.”
“Well,” Jasmine said. “Did you miss them?”
“Of course,” Henry said, offended.
“Then start by telling them that,” Janelle said, practically. “And then tell them just how much you’ve achieved over the last couple of months.”
“I can’t,” Henry said. He shook his head in bitter dismay. “The message won’t stay private, you see.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Local space seems clear, sir,” Flight Lieutenant Pixie Raga said.
“Glad to hear it,” Kurt said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. Flying long-range patrol was always tricky, even without the constant threat of alien attack. He knew, even if his wingman didn’t, just how unlikely it was they would stumble across anything dangerous. Their presence was more inclined to ensure that any aliens intent on sneaking closer had second thoughts. “But you don’t need to keep repeating it again and again.”