The Shadow of Cincinnatus (51 page)

Roman found his voice. “Where...where the hell did
they
come from?”

“Bella, perhaps,” Lieutenant Thompson said. She sounded as shaken as Roman felt. “They could have traced our course through the Asimov Chain, then sent for help. Bella has an Asimov Point that leads into the Beyond...”

Roman forced himself to think, hard. The enemy fleet...was it
real
?

It was impossible to be sure. Logic suggested the enemy wouldn’t have withheld those ships from Boston, if they’d existed, but they
had
definitely sent enough firepower to take the system given what they
thought
they’d been facing. They’d certainly have refused to surrender Nova Athena if they’d known twelve battle squadrons were rushing to the rescue. And yet...they could have come out of cloak much later, ensuring the Federation Navy ships didn’t have a chance to escape. It might have been a blunder, or it might have been a clever trick trying to
pretend
to be a blunder.

In the end, the problem was simple.
If the fleet is real, continuing the offensive is suicide; if the fleet is fake, the offensive can proceed without delay
.

But the only way to test the issue was to attack the enemy fleet...

“Alter course,” he ordered. The planet wasn’t going anywhere – and besides, they needed time to think and plan. He drew out a course on his console, then forwarded it to the helmsmen. “Take us away from the planet.”

* * *

For a long moment, the universe seemed to darken, before it snapped back to normal. Marius found himself gasping for breath, even as the red icons moved closer and closer on the display. Twelve battle squadrons! The enemy had known where they were going and laid a trap, baiting it with a target they knew the Federation couldn’t ignore. Their tactics, in hindsight, made perfect sense.

“Emperor,” Commander Lewis said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Marius snarled at her. The pain in his chest was fading as anger overwhelmed him. He might have to flee the system, but he was damned if he was allowing the Outsiders to claim victory. They’d recover nothing more than ashes by the time he was finished with their damned world. “Raise Admiral Garibaldi.”

Garibaldi’s face appeared in the display – and blinked in shock. Marius ignored the astonishment on his protégé’s face, even as he struggled to speak. His body was betraying him at the very last. But there was no time to summon the doctor, or do anything other than issue orders. He could rest afterwards.

“Admiral,” he said. His voice sounded harsh and broken, even in his own ears. “You are ordered to lock antimatter missiles on Nova Athena and fire.”

There was a long pause. “Emperor,” Garibaldi said. “Are you ordering me to
bombard
the planet?”

Oddly, being questioned made Marius stronger. “Yes,” he said. “You are to fire a full spread of missiles at the planet. Now.”

* * *

Roman had feared...
something
...from his mentor, although he couldn’t have said if he was scared
of
him or scared
for
him. The change in Marius Drake was just too great for him to ignore. But...but he’d never anticipated an order to commit genocide...

...and it
would
be genocide, he knew. A single antimatter warhead striking the planet’s surface would be a nightmare. Three or four would be utterly lethal. Anyone who survived the first strikes would die within weeks as the skies darkened, debris fell from high above and radiation oozed over the planet’s surface. It would be the end of billions of lives. No one, not even the Federation at its height, could have saved even a tiny percentage of the planet’s population.

He couldn’t do it. Whatever the cost, he couldn’t do it.

“Sir,” he said. “That would be an illegal order...”

The emperor’s face purpled. “Are you refusing my orders?”

Roman understood, suddenly, just how Blake Raistlin’s defense had worked. Was an order, no matter how horrific, actually
illegal
if it came from the wellspring of all authority? And Marius Drake had effectively taken the Grand Senate’s place. He
was
the source of authority now...

“Sir,” Roman pleaded. He’d killed before, hundreds of crewmen died when even a small destroyer was blown into plasma, but this was on a far greater scale. It was wrong. “You cannot order the deaths of billions of innocent civilians.”

“That is an order,” Marius snapped. “You will do as I command!”

Roman gathered himself. “It is madness,” he said. Professor Kratman had been right, only Roman had been too loyal to see it. “I will not be party to genocide...”

The connection broke.

* * *

Marius stared at Garibaldi in absolute disbelief, then hit the switch to break the connection before he exploded with rage. How
dare
Garibaldi defy him? Hadn’t it been Marius who’d promoted him, forgiven him for keeping Henrietta Beauregard-Justinian’s presence a secret and eventually given him command of his own fleet? Roman was almost a
son
to Marius – and he’d betrayed him! How could he?

“Signal the fleet,” he ordered, as cold fury overwhelmed judgement. “Lock weapons on
Valiant
and her comrades.”

Commander Lewis stared. “Sir...?”

“Do it,” Marius thundered. “Or I’ll have you relieved and thrown out the airlock!”

Frightened, Commander Lewis turned back to her console.

“Weapons locked, sir,” she said. Her voice was shaking. “All batteries are ready to fire.”

* * *

Roman paled as red light washed across the display. Emperor Marius’s task force had locked weapons on his formation...
all
of his formation. Urgent messages blinked up in his display, sent by commanders who didn’t have the slightest idea what was happening, demanding to know why they were being targeted. Roman barely saw them, because he couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d never imagined being at Ground Zero of a civil war...

...And his mentor had gone mad. It was the only logical explanation.

“Stand by point defense,” he said. He thought about trying to contact the other commanders of Task Force 5.2, only to dismiss it as futile. The sycophants he’d seen at the dinner wouldn’t do anything to dissuade the Emperor, once he’d made up his mind. It was sheer luck that Task Force 5.2 was outside missile range of Nova Athena, or the planet would be radioactive ashes by now. “Open a channel to the other ships...”

Thompson coughed. “Which other ships?”

“All of the Federation ships,” Garibaldi said. Maybe he could talk one or two of the Emperor’s picked men out of helping him to commit genocide. Maybe, along with his mind, Marius Drake had lost his ability to judge men accurately. “I need to talk to them...”

* * *

“Admiral Garibaldi is trying to raise the other ships,” Commander Lewis said. “Sir...”

“I will not let this rebellion spread,” Marius growled. “Fire!”

Commander Lewis didn’t hesitate. She keyed her console...and, moments later,
Thunderbird
launched a full spread of missiles towards her targets.

* * *

Alarms screamed.

“Missile separation,” Lieutenant Thompson snapped. “They
fired
on us!”

“Launch scatter missiles and ECM drones, but hold our missiles,” Roman snapped. “I say again, do not return fire.”

Sweat ran down his back as the display updated. At such range, there was almost no chance of any of the missiles losing power before they entered attack range. Emperor Marius knew that as well as he did, which left Roman with a nightmarish dilemma. He couldn’t fire on fellow Federation Navy starships, could he? But they seemed to have no qualms about firing on
him
. Home Fleet’s commanders had definitely been picked for loyalty over competence. But then, if Home Fleet had ever been called upon to do its duty, the war would have been on the verge of being lost anyway. The barbarians would have been at the gates.

He clenched his teeth as a second salvo of missiles launched from the Emperor’s ships, then the first salvo roared into the teeth of his defenses. Thankfully, Home Fleet’s crews were unpractised, or it would have been a great deal worse. As it was, the missiles that made it through the defenses did real damage. He watched, fighting to keep his growing horror and rage under control, as four battlecruisers and a superdreadnaught died in balls of fire.

“
Peterson
is gone,” Lieutenant Thompson reported. “
Inflexible
and
Intolerant
have both taken heavy damage...”

“Return fire,” Roman ordered.

* * *

“They’re firing on each other,” Commodore Thayne said. “Did you
know
this would happen?”

Charlie shook his head. He’d hoped the Shadow Fleet – nothing more than ECM drones, based on Federation designs but improved by the Outsiders – would convince the Federation ships to flee. It had always been a gamble, particularly if the Federation Navy had decided to fight a long-range missile duel rather than simply run for its life. But he’d never anticipated the Federation Navy ships exchanging fire with each other...

“No,” he said. What had happened on those ships? “And all we can do is watch.”

* * *

“Emperor,” Commander Lewis reported. “Task Force 5.1 has opened fire.”

“Traitors,” Marius growled. Their fire was likely to be heavier – and more effective – than his own. They’d simply had more time to train and test themselves against live enemies, which meant that continuing the fight would be suicide. He hated to run, but there was no choice. “Order all ships to retreat to the gravity limit. We have to get back to Earth.”

He clenched his fists so hard they hurt, promising himself bloody revenge. Garibaldi would pay for his treachery, as would the Outsiders themselves. The Federation would survive under his rule, no matter what happened. And God help anyone who got in his way.

* * *

“They’re retreating, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said. She sounded stunned – and horrified at what she’d seen. It was impossible to blame her. “They’re heading for the gravity limit at best possible speed.”

She paused. “Should we give chase?”

Roman shook his head. Thanks to the earlier battles, it was unlikely his fleet could catch up with Task Force 5.2 before it crossed the line and vanished into FTL. And there was still that huge Outsider force to consider...

“No,” he said, out loud. “Hail the Outsiders. I think it’s time we talked.”

* * *

“Jesus,” Sanderson said. “I take it back, Uzi. You were right all along.”

Uzi shrugged, confused. The Federation had been winning, then one half of the Federation ships had opened fire on the other half...what the hell had happened? Had someone managed to take over the fire control network or what? And now the remaining half of the Federation formation was actually
talking
to the Outsiders? What the hell was going on?

“Start signalling for help,” Roebuck ordered, turning away from the porthole. “Get someone out here to rescue us.”

“Yes, sir,” Sanderson said.

Uzi kept his face expressionless. Whatever had happened, it had screwed up his plans – both of them. And now, if someone worked his way through the maintenance logs, they might realize there had been nothing wrong with the power core. And then...

But even if no one identified him, he knew, the universe had just changed once again. And he didn’t even know
how
.

And
, he asked himself silently,
what the hell do I do now
?

End of Book II

The Series Will Conclude In

The Barbarian Bride

Coming Soon!

The story of Cincinnatus (Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus (519 – 430 BC) is one of those stories that resonate down the ages. Put simply, Cincinnatus was a Roman politician and military leader (the Romans didn’t consider the two separate spheres) who was appointed Dictator when the Roman Republic faced a potentially fatal threat from a barbarian tribe. Cincinnatus took command, built an army, defeated the barbarians and returned to his farm, all within fifteen days. As such, he is generally considered a model of civic virtue.

However, his story needs to be placed in context.

The Romans were very suspicious of anyone who sought too much power, to the point where anyone who seemed to be too powerful or too popular would be dragged down by the rest of the politicians. Accordingly, they appointed two Heads of State (the Consuls) who would serve for a year, a system that ensured that the two men would watch each other carefully for signs of undue ambition as well as actually running the government. The system was, in many ways, dangerously unstable. A man who felt himself slighted unfairly by the Senate – like Julius Caesar – might go into open rebellion against the might of Rome.

This was not a system that encouraged single-mindedness. The Romans, recognizing that this was a major problem when the state was under attack, created the office of Dictator. These men were granted absolute power for a fixed period, then expected to shuffle off into the sidelines of history. They were, among other things, spared the threat of criminal prosecution for anything they did while in power. (It is a curious testament to the system that Sulla, who had taken the post by force, was never killed by one of his many enemies after he returned power to the Senate.) The Roman Dictators were never meant to remain in power indefinitely, unlike modern-day dictators.

And yet, so many people have drawn the wrong lesson from the story of Cincinnatus.

There is a curious agreement among thinkers from both the Left and the Right, although both of them would be horrified by the suggestion that they might have something in common. The Far Right does not object to the concept of an absolute dictator,
per se
; they expect only that the dictator be a good and virtuous man. Thus, the concentration of unchecked, unbalanced and fundamentally unaccountable power is only a problem if held by a man they do not consider to be a
good
man. They do not expect the good man to become sullied by the power he holds.