Battleship Indomitable Read online

  “That seems obvious.”

  “Yet it’s not. You lost your mechsuit regiment to a Mutuality military trap because some Hundred Worlds commander inverted that wager. He bet an invaluable, nearly irreplaceable elite unit—a massive downside possibility—against the limited upside possibility of merely defending one world and maintaining the status quo. In naval terms, he gambled his irreplaceable fleet-in-being in hopes of a mere tactical victory.”

  Straker raised a hand. “Plus the possibility of badly damaging the Hok—I mean the Mutuality—attack forces.”

  “That is true. The situation was more complex than my simple example makes it seem, but my goal is to make the principle clear. Do you understand?”

  “I think so. The best actions always have more upside than downside. Hopefully, big upside and only a little downside. Like a sniper taking a low-probability shot against the enemy commander. Missing costs one bullet. Hitting might win the battle, even the war.”

  “A good example. It’s the intersection of probability curves with potential gains and losses. Even more importantly, the hope—even the inevitability—of the highly improbable must not be discounted. You must expect surprises, even count on them.”

  Lieutenant Paloco dropped his chair legs to the ground with a thump. Straker had almost forgotten he was there, listening. “So it’s like the old theory about flat-out asking every hot chick you meet to sleep with you,” Loco said. “There’s no downside if you can take the rejection, and there’s big upside when every now and again one of them says yes.”

  “A limited application that ignores other factors, such as the social cost of being viewed as a man-whore,” replied Lazarus with a sniff, “but it does illustrate the point.”

  Straker cleared his throat. “I’m still waiting for the application to me.”

  “The application is for both of us, Commodore. It’s my Pascal’s Wager to bet on yours, which is a second-order effect, a derivative. I can’t afford not to help you try. The downside for me is acceptable, as long as I do lesser harm to the Mutuality thereby. The upside possibility is to destroy my enemies and free us from a miserable war that has lasted centuries. I’ll take that bet.”

  Loco chuckled. “Not to mention that if you do, you come home a hero. You could probably leverage that into being a big boss in the Mutuality. Or you could stick with us and still be a top dog, if you played your cards right.”

  Lazarus looked down his nose at Loco. “You’re mixing your metaphors. And I wasn’t aware canines played cards.”

  “What, you never saw the picture of dogs playing poker? It was popular when I was growing up.”

  Straker stood, cutting off further argument. “All right, Inquisitor. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

  “I look forward to it, Commodore. May I ask a favor?”

  “You can ask.”

  “A handtab with books loaded on it. Or even printed books, if you have them.”

  “Not many of those around, but I’ll get something sent to you.”

  “Thank you again, Commodore.”

  Straker made sure to retrieve his bucket of snails before he left. In the main guardroom, Loco said to him, “You know he’s sucking up. He’s still a snake. He’ll play along for a while, and then he’ll stab you in the back, or try to escape, something like that.”

  “Possibly. But he’s smart and he knows how to get things done. I can learn from him, things I need to know. And I’m hoping he takes the long view. I’ll use it against him.”

  “Long view?”

  “If I’m to be a new Caesar—maybe Napoleon’s a better example—what better way than to be my valued mentor and counselor?”

  Loco put a hand on Straker’s arm. “Boss, be careful what he teaches you. I know I’m all loose and shit sometimes, but I’m free to be that way because you’re a rock, know what I mean?”

  “You mean I’m an uptight asshole, right?”

  “You wouldn’t be Derek Straker if you weren’t, and I don’t want you to change. I’m worried you’re getting overconfident. This isn’t your kind of battle, Derek.”

  “A battle of wits? Maybe not, but I can win because I hold the power, and I’m going to use it for good. I’ve been doing a lot of reading—”

  “—like you always do—”

  “—and I think I can win the whole thing. The alternative is to be selfish, make a life here, and let the two halves of humanity go on fighting and killing each other with no end in sight.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad…but I’m with you, Derek. Even when you’re crazy.” Loco let go and punched Straker in the same arm. “What now, boss?”

  “Now? Now we grab some more upside from Freenix.”

  “You grabbing Freenix? This I gotta see.”

  Chapter 7

  Starship Nebula, Freenix Base

  The Premier Matriarch, the one the humans called Freenix, drew herself out of her tank and felt old. She had not been young when she had found herself in charge of the last organized and free remnant of the Ruxin people eighty years ago.

  For decades she’d held her society together, developing it from the days when it was a mere repair yard for Archers. When the last of those heroic warships had returned for refit, she had decommissioned its crew of warrior males, but not before she had mated with a few.

  Afterward, she’d had them put in cryogenic stasis. No warriors would ever consent to being hormonally neutered once more, but with no battle to fight, they would be a disruptive element, a grave risk to her plans. She could afford no risks. Not if she intended to free her planet and star system once more. When the time came for war, they could be revived.

  With the long-planned expansion set in motion, she had thought to personally oversee this first phase, wherein eight new asteroids would be transformed into habitats for her people. It was well under way, but the arrival of the rogue humans and the agitation from the neuters threatened everything.

  She thought she could handle the apish aliens. Their leader was forceful but had asked for little, only the last remaining Archer, some labor and supplies. She could have destroyed their ship when it had first arrived, but was much too shrewd to throw away such potential.

  Now, though, she realized she might have outsmarted herself. The humans she’d aided had planted dangerous ideas in the heads of the neuters assigned to the Archer, ideas that had spread like wildfire among the populace. She was too old, too set in her ways, to manage such a potential conflagration.

  Her eldest daughter, Vuxana, had been groomed and educated from the egg for this moment. The transition had come a little early, but the energy and flexibility of youth was needed. The old matriarch could relax and play the advisor, leaving the difficulties of rulership in time of turmoil to the young.

  “I will not be your puppet, Mother,” Vuxana said as she prepared to enter the throne room that served as an audience chamber. “Not all of my decisions will be in accordance with your intentions.”

  “I am aware of that, daughter,” the elder replied. “I have confidence you will lead our people to greatness once again.”

  “Perhaps we are great already.”

  “You are impertinent.”

  “I am Premier.” Vuxana focused all four eyes on her mother. “It is you who are impertinent.”

  “I raised you well.”

  “So you did.” Vuxana inserted a comlink into her auditory orifice, deep enough it couldn’t be seen. “You will listen and advise me.”

  “Of course… Premier.”

  ***

  “Your suit is most impressive, Commodore Straker,” said Zaxby as he led Straker and Loco through the soggy corridors of Freenix Base on the way to see the Ruxin ruler. “You more closely resemble a War Male.”

  “Thanks. That’s the idea.” Straker’s suit was painted in bright greens and yellows, and now sprouted two rubber foam tentacles from its shoulders.

  “I can’t believe those silly arms mak
e you look better to a Ruxin, not worse,” said Loco.

  “It’s the same principle as a Ruxin keeping only two eyes and two tentacles facing a human,” Straker replied. “I never noticed it until Carla pointed it out. They do it to minimize their oddness to us. Carla figured these arms might make me look more Ruxin and more impressive to them, subconsciously.”

  “You might also carry a weapon in your hand,” said Zaxby.

  “In the presence of your boss?”

  “A War Male is expected to be armed at all times.”

  “What kind of weapon? My slugthrower?”

  “I have a better idea. Let us make a detour.” Zaxby turned off the main corridor.

  Straker and Loco followed, calf-deep in warmish seawater. Though their pressure suits kept it out, Straker knew the humidity coming through his open faceplate would eventually make him miserable. If humans had to occupy Ruxin-adapted spaces for very long, they would need to come up with a specialized wet suit rather than just using spacesuits. For now, though, he put up with it.

  Zaxby opened a door and entered. Inside the large room were racks of objects, many products of nature, as if they’d been harvested from aquatic environments—shells, preserved animals, coral. The Ruxin picked up a short spear made of white bone, decorated with insets of mother-of-pearl and sporting a cruel, barbed tip.

  “This is a squid spear,” Zaxby said, handing it to Straker. “Loco, you take one too. It’s made from a bone of a deep-sea creature, and it’s used to hunt squid.”

  “I take it the squids fought back?”

  “Before the advent of modern technology, hunting the larger squids was quite dangerous. For humans, it would be like hunting a lion with a spear. Now, these are ceremonial objects.”

  “Won’t someone care that we took them?”

  Zaxby swiveled his head in negation. “They are for the communal use of War Males. As we have none of our own War Males due to Freenix’s policies, and she has accepted you as War Males, you should carry them. Of course, if you die or retire from making war, they will be returned to the storehouse.”

  “No problem. We ain’t gonna die.” Loco swung the spear and stabbed at the air. “On guard! Back, evil squid!”

  Zaxby brought an extra eye forward to examine Loco. “Squid are not evil. They are animals, although clever ones. I remember one time—”

  “Loco’s just making up for his lost childhood, as usual,” said Straker. “Lead on, McZaxby.”

  “McZaxby? Is that an honorific?”

  “Sure, sure. That’s what it is. Let’s go see Freenix and shake spears at her.”

  Loco busted out laughing. “I see what you did there, boss! Shakespeare! If I didn’t know better I’d say you were sprouting a sense of humor.”

  “I’ll be sprouting seaweed if I stay here too long,” Straker replied. “Let’s go.”

  A crowd of Ruxins milled near the entrance to Freenix’s ruling chamber. Many wore ornate harnesses, and the babble of their polysyllabic language filled the area.

  “Something unusual is afoot,” said Zaxby.

  “Or a-tentacle,” said Loco.

  “I will inquire.”

  When Zaxby returned from questioning his fellow Ruxins, he said, “Freenix has been forced to abdicate in favor of one of her daughters, Vuxana.”

  “Why?” asked Straker.

  “The old Premier was due to retire soon, and the neuters demanded it be now. They wish to see liberalized policies on genderfication. More opportunity to become male or female. More status.”

  Straker glanced sidelong at Loco, who shrugged. “Did these neuters have spokesmen to convey their demands?”

  Zaxby squirmed. “They did.” He said no more.

  “From the crew of the Revenge, maybe?” said Straker.

  “That is true.”

  Straker smacked his fist into his gloved palm. “Damn. I knew it. I planted ideas in their heads. Did you know about this beforehand, Zaxby?”

  “I heard from the crew, but I did not participate. I am no rabble-rouser, no disruptor of the status quo, no demagogue, no—”

  “I get it.” Straker shrugged. “Well, let’s seize the opportunity.”

  Zaxby waved several arms at Straker. “No, no, no. We must wait for the new matriarch to consolidate her power. Then, perhaps, in a few weeks, we can petition…”

  “Screw that. I can’t wait weeks. Come on, Zaxby. You’re my translator. Hold this bucket, and don’t let anyone eat any.”

  “Oh, my. Freiheit mollusks!”

  “A gift for the new queen.” Straker moved toward the doorway. “Loco, back me up.”

  “As usual, boss.”

  Straker shoved through the press of rubbery Ruxins with Loco and Zaxby following. The crowd gave way without complaint. He was pretty sure they were all neuters, and they recognized him as a War Male.

  At the far end of the audience chamber, a female Ruxin sprawled on a thronelike pedestal set on a dais. Straker marched straight to the foot of its ramp and raised his spear over his head. The others followed close behind.

  “Hail Premier Vuxana! I am Commodore Derek Straker, War Male commander and leader of your human allies.” He turned to face the crowd of Ruxins who occupied the chamber. “I congratulate you on your rise to the throne, and I pledge my support to your new, enlightened policies and thank you in advance for your generous backing for my efforts to free the Ruxin homeworld.”

  When Zaxby translated, the octopoids broke out in a roar of vocalization. Straker wasn’t sure if it was cheering or anger or merely loud discussion. He stood facing them and shook his spear over his head, determined not to back down no matter what.

  “They are pleased,” Zaxby said. “You have struck the right note of optimism. They are tired of toiling without opportunity for advancement of the individual or the species. They are hailing your name and are calling for Vuxana to cooperate with you.”

  Straker merely smiled and continued to wave his spear at the crowd. He noticed that a dozen or so Ruxins in the front wore military harnesses and carried sidearms. He thought he recognized them as members of the crew of the Archer Revenge. They might not be War Males, but they seemed to be acting like they were.

  “Nice job, boss,” yelled Loco in his ear.

  A tentacle pushed on Straker’s shoulder. He turned to see Vuxana halfway down the ramp, one rubbery arm extended to touch him. She was big, like Freenix, but her skin tone was firm and her colors much more vibrant than the old matriarch’s. Her eyes were bright and clear.

  “We must speak, War Male Straker,” she said in passable Earthan. “Come with me.”

  The Revenge crew formed a cordon and ushered the group out a door at the rear of the throne room and into an antechamber, but they didn’t enter. There, Vuxana sat ponderously at an oval table and waved for the humans and Zaxby to do so as well.

  Straker remained standing, believing this might give him a psychological advantage with the new young Premier. “Zaxby, the bucket.”

  Zaxby placed the bucket of snails on the table.

  Straker walked it over to Vuxana and set it in front of her. “A gift, for you, Premier.”

  She dipped a tentacle in the water and drew out a snail, examined it briefly, removed it from its shell and popped it in her mouth. “Quite tasty. Thank you, Commodore,” she said after swallowing.

  “You are welcome, Premier Vuxana,” he said. He tried to phrase his words formally, one ruler to another. “It is an example of how cooperation yields benefits. My people wish to live safely and productively, and will no doubt be able to provide more snails, as well as other products. Your population, on the other hand, is restless and tired of being cooped up, toiling with few pleasures and little purpose. With your help, I can give them that purpose.”

  “War Males are headstrong,” Vuxana replied. “You gave my neuters these ideas and now you come to pressure me into war.”

  “Ruxins are already at war, Premier. The Mutuality subjugated your homeworld
and enslaved your people. Together, we can free them and my own people too. You have the industry and the workers. I have the leadership, drive and vision, and a core of veteran fighters. Together, we can bring down our enemies and take our rightful places in this arm of the galaxy.”

  “I agree. I am the future. My mother Freenix was the past. She guided our people through a dark time and prepared me with all the skills I need. She even had me study your language. However, we must not be hasty in our eagerness. We must balance the new and the old. Change must be managed.”

  Straker set his spear on the table. “That’s your department, Premier. As the commanding War Male, my province is war. Yours is the economy. You must produce what I need, and I must employ it skillfully. If we both fulfill our roles, we shall be victorious.”

  “Victory is not assured,” Vuxana replied, “but I am willing to take risks my predecessor would not. I will provide you with your war materiel, but you must plan your operations so that they can never be traced back here to the Starfish Nebula. If you fail, our breeding population and yours must survive.”

  “Fair enough. Now that we’ve agreed in principle, let’s discuss details.” Straker took out his old handtab, sealed in clear plastic against the dampness. He removed his glove and glanced at his notes.

  “One more item,” Vuxana said. “Before we get to specifics, I must insist you make your first operation the liberation of Ruxin.”

  “I told you the conduct of war was my area,” Straker said.

  “Of course. But as Premier of my people and the holder of the resources you need to prosecute that war—and as the one with the most to lose—it is my decision as to which battle to begin first. That is a political choice, not a military one.”

  Straker folded his hands and sat, his elbows on the table. “Premier, not only is this not in accordance with my own intentions, it’s likely to do damage to your own people. Whatever star system we liberate first will draw a strong response from the Mutuality. It makes more sense to liberate a human world, and I have already chosen one with a high chance of success. Ruxin is only one planet, one star system, inhabited by aliens. Its liberation will not fire the imagination of the majority humans in the Mutuality the way freeing one of their own systems would.”