“Try the red,” said Admiral O’Quinn in a jolly voice. “It’s from my estate in the Dantas Mountains.”
A pair of servants stepped forward with a carafe and a silver-chased goblet, bowing low to Daniel. They wore smarmy smiles.
Daniel waved his left hand before him, palm out in a mixture of brusque refusal and disgust. “No,” he said. “No thank you.”
He grimaced and—he could’ve stopped himself but he didn’t see any reason to—blurted, “For God’s sake, fellow officers, what are you talking about? I’m not suggesting we fight a head-on battle with two battleships, even ships like these that’ve been configured for a long voyage with reaction mass tanks replacing half the missile stowage. We’ll hit Gehenna unexpectedly and catch the Alliance squadron on the ground.”
Daniel gestured, lifting both hands as though he were a preacher rousing his congregation. He’d expected argument, doubts, and disagreement over strategy. He was the most junior officer present; the others had been of higher rank than he was now when they fled the Three Circles Conspiracy. Of course they weren’t going to accept his proposed tactics immediately, especially since the others didn’t have his recent experience of knowing everything through the Tree.
What Daniel hadn’t expected was the present willful apathy and determination to ignore a reality that looked terrifyingly bleak. Admiral O’Quinn and his officers planned to stick their heads in the sand and discuss vintages until the Alliance commander worked up his squadron and brought it here to rain down destruction on the Cluster—with the Aristoxenos the first target.
“One missile into each ship and they won’t be able to lift without repairs,” Daniel said cajolingly. “Even the battleships. And you can imagine how long it’s going to take them to make repairs with only the Commonwealth’s resources to draw on, right? With one stroke you’ll have saved the Cluster, saved yourselves, and put the Republic of Cinnabar in your debt!”
“Well, Admiral, did you hear that generous offer?” Lieutenant Estaing said, his cheeks bright with drink and emotion. “We’re to be given posthumous pardons.”
He glared at Daniel, furious and frightened at the same time. “Except I suppose the pardons would be contingent on our succeeding,” he continued with his voice rising, “and that’s impossible. Impossible!”
“Mr. Estaing,” Commander Purvis said sharply, “pray recall you’re in my house and speaking to my guest.”
Purvis turned to Daniel and coughed into his hand. “But the fact is, Leary,” he continued, “that you just don’t know what it’s like here in the North. The Zanie isn’t a warship any more, not with the sort of maintenance we’ve been able to do in a place like this. Oh, sure, we could probably see off a squadron of the flyboats the Commonwealth navy uses, but not real ships. Not a crack Alliance squadron. It just isn’t in the cards.”
“Fellow officers!” Daniel said, wondering if he sounded as desperate as he felt. “If you’ll allow me to show you a simulation—”
Lieutenant Williams, the cadaverous Second Lieutenant, rose so abruptly from the stool she was sitting on. Her goblet tipped in her hand. She was drinking gin, not wine. She opened her mouth with a stricken expression. Instead of speaking, she turned and vomited a gout of bile and liquor onto the rugs layered on the floor of the loggia.
Servants trotted over, whispering cheerfully among themselves. They shared space with the officers but remained apart, like the aviforms fluttering about the Governor’s Palace. One held a basin of water; another had napkins draped over her arm. The rest rolled the stained rugs sideways with the skill of long experience and took them away.
Daniel turned slightly so that he could keep his eyes on O’Quinn but pretend not to see the retching Williams. “A simulation, as I say . . . ,” he resumed.
Bodo Williams turned without rising. She’d given her face a wipe with a napkin that left it wet but not quite clean. “For God’s sake, don’t you understand?” she said. “There’s no point in simulations, there’s no point in anything! We can’t fight battleships, we can’t fight anybody! Just go away and leave us in peace for as long as we have left, can’t you?”