Read Online Mission of Honor-ARC by David Weber - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Weber
Tags: Science-Fiction
Ads: Link
than the two of us. I'm not interrogating you for anyone else at this point, Lester. This is purely for my own information, and I'll also give you my word that my reason for asking for it is to prevent as much bloodshed—on either side—as I possibly can."
He looked at her for several seconds, then inhaled deeply.
"Before I tell you anything, I have a question of my own."
"Go ahead and ask," she said calmly.
"When you demanded my surrender," he said, gazing intensely into her eyes, "was it a bluff?"
"In what sense?" She tilted her head to one side.
"In two senses, I suppose."
"Whether or not I would have fired if you hadn't surrendered?"
"That's one of them," he admitted.
"All right. In that sense, I wasn't bluffing at all," she said levelly. "If you hadn't surrendered, and accepted my terms in full, I would have opened fire on Second Fleet from beyond any range at which you could have effectively replied, and I would have gone right on firing until whoever was left in command surrendered or every single one of your ships was destroyed."
Silence hovered between them for several moments that seemed oddly endless. It was a taut, singing silence—a mutual silence built of the understanding of two professional naval officers. And yet, despite its tension, there was no anger in it. Not anymore. The anger they'd both felt at the time had long since vanished into something else, and if she'd had to pick a single word to describe what the two of them felt now, it would have been "regret."
"Well, that certainly answers my first question," he said finally, smiling crookedly. "And I suppose I'm actually relieved to hear it." Her eyebrows arched, and he snorted. "I've always thought I was a pretty good poker player. I would've hated to think I'd misread you quite that badly at the time."
"I see." She shook her head with a slight smile of her own. "But you said there were two senses?"
"Yes." He leaned forward, propping his forearms on his thighs, and his eyes were very sharp. "The other 'bluff' I've been wondering about is whether or not you really could have done it from that range?"
Honor swung her chair from side to side in a small, thoughtful arc while she considered his question. Theoretically, what he was asking edged into territory covered by the Official Secrets Act. On the other hand, it wasn't as if he was going to be e-mailing the information to the Octagon. Besides . . . .
"No," she said after no more than two or three heartbeats. "I couldn't have. Not from that range."
"Ah." He sat back once more, his crooked smile going even more crooked. Then he inhaled deeply. "Part of me really hated to hear that," he told her. "Nobody likes finding out he was tricked into surrendering."
She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, and he chuckled. It was a surprisingly genuine chuckle, and the amusement behind it was just as genuine, she realized. And it was also oddly gentle.
"You wanted my databases intact," he said. "We both know that. But I know what else you were going to say, as well."
"You do?" she asked when he paused.
"Yep. You were going to say you did it to save lives, but you were afraid I might not believe you, weren't you?"
"I wouldn't say I thought you wouldn't believe me," she replied thoughtfully. "I guess the real reason was that I was afraid it would sound . . . self-serving. Or like some sort of self-justification, at least."
"Maybe it would have, but that doesn't change the fact that Second Fleet was completely and utterly screwed." He grimaced. "There was no way we were going to get out of the resonance zone and make it into hyper before you were in range to finish us off. All that was going to happen in the meantime was that more people were going to get killed on both sides without changing the final outcome at all."
Honor didn't say anything. There was no need to, and he crossed his legs slowly, his expression thoughtful.
"All right," he said. "With the stipulation
He looked at her for several seconds, then inhaled deeply.
"Before I tell you anything, I have a question of my own."
"Go ahead and ask," she said calmly.
"When you demanded my surrender," he said, gazing intensely into her eyes, "was it a bluff?"
"In what sense?" She tilted her head to one side.
"In two senses, I suppose."
"Whether or not I would have fired if you hadn't surrendered?"
"That's one of them," he admitted.
"All right. In that sense, I wasn't bluffing at all," she said levelly. "If you hadn't surrendered, and accepted my terms in full, I would have opened fire on Second Fleet from beyond any range at which you could have effectively replied, and I would have gone right on firing until whoever was left in command surrendered or every single one of your ships was destroyed."
Silence hovered between them for several moments that seemed oddly endless. It was a taut, singing silence—a mutual silence built of the understanding of two professional naval officers. And yet, despite its tension, there was no anger in it. Not anymore. The anger they'd both felt at the time had long since vanished into something else, and if she'd had to pick a single word to describe what the two of them felt now, it would have been "regret."
"Well, that certainly answers my first question," he said finally, smiling crookedly. "And I suppose I'm actually relieved to hear it." Her eyebrows arched, and he snorted. "I've always thought I was a pretty good poker player. I would've hated to think I'd misread you quite that badly at the time."
"I see." She shook her head with a slight smile of her own. "But you said there were two senses?"
"Yes." He leaned forward, propping his forearms on his thighs, and his eyes were very sharp. "The other 'bluff' I've been wondering about is whether or not you really could have done it from that range?"
Honor swung her chair from side to side in a small, thoughtful arc while she considered his question. Theoretically, what he was asking edged into territory covered by the Official Secrets Act. On the other hand, it wasn't as if he was going to be e-mailing the information to the Octagon. Besides . . . .
"No," she said after no more than two or three heartbeats. "I couldn't have. Not from that range."
"Ah." He sat back once more, his crooked smile going even more crooked. Then he inhaled deeply. "Part of me really hated to hear that," he told her. "Nobody likes finding out he was tricked into surrendering."
She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, and he chuckled. It was a surprisingly genuine chuckle, and the amusement behind it was just as genuine, she realized. And it was also oddly gentle.
"You wanted my databases intact," he said. "We both know that. But I know what else you were going to say, as well."
"You do?" she asked when he paused.
"Yep. You were going to say you did it to save lives, but you were afraid I might not believe you, weren't you?"
"I wouldn't say I thought you wouldn't believe me," she replied thoughtfully. "I guess the real reason was that I was afraid it would sound . . . self-serving. Or like some sort of self-justification, at least."
"Maybe it would have, but that doesn't change the fact that Second Fleet was completely and utterly screwed." He grimaced. "There was no way we were going to get out of the resonance zone and make it into hyper before you were in range to finish us off. All that was going to happen in the meantime was that more people were going to get killed on both sides without changing the final outcome at all."
Honor didn't say anything. There was no need to, and he crossed his legs slowly, his expression thoughtful.
"All right," he said. "With the stipulation
Similar Books
