Somewhat chastened, but with a resentful expression, Okada began. “When I first came to Maa-ni-la prior to ‘repatriation’ to my beloved, but sparsely inhabited ‘Ja-paan,’ the city teemed with Lemurian ‘runaways’ from other Homes. With the addition of the Fil-pin Lands to the Alliance, those malcontents had few places left to go other than the Gt South Island that, so far, hadn’t joined the cause. I interviewed thousands. Some were merely cowards, but others had honor, and simply wanted to be left alone. I took the hundred or so with warrior skills-some even disillusioned veterans of the Grik war-who were attracted to the traditional, militantly isolationist Japanese lifestyle I described to them. Together, we established a bakufu-a shogunate-near what would have been Yokohama.”
“A shogunate!” Shinya interrupted Okada’s narrative. “You are ambitious! And I presume you are the Seii Taishogun?”
Okada didn’t flinch or apologize. “Someone had to be, and I rule no settlements that do not desire the protection of my Lemurian samurai! We are not an imperial government! As I said, I based the system on ancient precedence modified by hindsight, to glean the more benevolent aspects of that culture. I teach Bushido and Kendo-you will not find better swordsmen than my samurai-but I stress the obligation to serve not only myself, but their fellow beings. Also, my samurai are not nobles, but commoners with noble ideals, perhaps more like a militia, dedicated to defending their people from the terrible predators that lurk upon our land-and invaders, of course. They train for these duties diligently, but they hunt and kill the great fish for their oil and flesh. They are not the aristocratic, bureaucratic leeches they once became on our world!”
“So you say… for now,” Shinya muttered. “Tell me, do you have female samurai?”
“Yes,” Okada said simply, and Shinya blinked. “As you know, female Lemurians can be formidable warriors. With their size and agility, few males can match them in ‘the way of the sword.’ ”
“Please continue your tale, of the pertinent events,” Saan-Kakja directed.
“At first, things went well. Most of the preexisting settlements around the Okada Shogunate willingly fell under its umbrella and enjoyed a new security and prosperity. According to their wishes, many of the Japanese sailors rescued from the Grik at Singapore were sent to us, and our society began to thrive. Then, in a single day, war found our new Ja-paan, and everything changed.”
“What happened?” Princess Rebecca asked, her gaze intent.
“A short distance up the coast from our tiny new Yokohama, we saw dense smoke rising from Ani-aaki, a ‘protected’ settlement,” Okada reported somberly. “A me-naak rider brought news of a most bizarre invasion. Iron ships had appeared off the coast, and humans came ashore. At first they seemed friendly, only afraid and confused. They spoke Japanese, a tongue many of my people have begun to learn, but did not know where they were. The people of Ani-aaki tried to explain what might have happened to them, based on our experience, but they didn’t want to hear. They didn’t believe it at first. Then they did believe, and officers came ashore to talk some more. The boat went back to the ships, and dozens returned, bringing many, many humans.” He gestured at the two weak men. “Back and forth the boats went, until the beach before the village was packed.” His face darkened. “Then things went very bad. Troops with rifles, Japanese troops, began taking food, supplies, anything they could find. Some of the local samurai tried to resist…” He paused. “They were shot. A panic ensued, and many people fled into the forest.” Again he gestured at the two men. “So did a number of the people brought ashore.” He shook his head, his face contorted with grief, rage, and shame. “The troops began shooting everyone! They killed the young, old, males and females, all while still looting befo Even the humans they brought ashore tried to help the People, but they were weak and easily killed.” He looked around the chamber at the horrified faces and agitated blinking.
“Two other boats came ashore with what must have been heavy machine guns… and killed everyone they saw! Many more tried to flee into the forest, but most were shot down. Finally, when nothing and no one remained, they set fire to the village and left.” He took a deep breath. “They transported the crew from Mizuki Maru to other ships and simply abandoned her there.” He shrugged. “She was badly damaged, as you’ve seen, and slowing the other ships down.”
“What other ships?” Sandra demanded with an edge.
Okada looked at her grimly. “A quite-modern Japanese Imperial Navy destroyer, I’m afraid, and one of the tankers she was sent to escort-to Yokohama. The destroyer is the Hidoiame, and she’s less than a year old.” His face wore a strange expression. “She is the newest thing in anti-submarine warfare, I’m told.”
“Who told you?” Sandra and Laumer both demanded at once.
“One of Mizuki Maru ’s crewmen who elected to remain behind, and also fled into the woods,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Well… who’s he, and why would he do that?”
“He was the ship’s cook,” Okada said simply. “And he is likely the reason they killed all the people they brought ashore.” He looked at the uncomprehending faces. “You see,” he added bitterly, “when asked if he could, if it came down to it… he refused to cook them!”
There was a collective, horrified gasp in the chamber, but Okada continued remorselessly on. “His act probably kept the officers from slip- ping entirely over the edge, and they decided to just kill all the ‘useless’ mouths instead.”
“Defenseless prisoners, you mean!” grated the tall, skinny man at Sandra’s side. He looked much older than he probably was; his hair prematurely white and his eyes and cheeks sunken in. He’d given up trying to stand, but there were tears on his face and he clearly intended to talk. “All those men were prisoners of war, not as if you could tell it by the way they treated us. More than five hundred men, slaughtered!” He glared at Okada. “And that’s not the half of it!” He paused to collect himself. “I’m Second Lieutenant Jack Mackey, forty-one-C, from Big Spring, Texas. I was in the Thirty-fourth Squadron of the Twenty-fourth Pursuit Group.” He nodded at his companion. “This is Second Lieutenant Orrin Reddy of the Third Pursuit Squadron, out of San Diego. He’s also forty-one-C-we were ‘newies’ together.” He looked apologetically at Sandra as the tears began to pool at his feet. “The Thirty-fourth was almost all Texans,” he said. “There were other Southern boys too, but only one Yankee, out of Illinois… I don’t know what happened to him.”
“There were fellas from everywhere in the Third,” whispered the man beside him, but that was all he managed to say. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Saan-Kakja, however.
Mackey nodded. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know much about what’s going on here. Sometimes I think I’m still in hell and this is just a dream. I hope somebody besides him”-he jerked his head at Okada-“can fill us in, but I guess something weird happened to us, and some of you too.” He shook his head. “Tin cans, submarines, PBYs-all that stuff you said after you met us with the ferry-seems as if this joint’s a regular dumping ground for folhis nd stuff that disappear where we’re from…”
“ When are you from, Tex?” Sheider asked anxiously. “I mean, sure, you were in the Philippines when the Japs came, but when did you get, you know, here?”
Taken aback, Mackey looked at the submariner. “Well, we figured, once we saw Japan was all goofed up, it must’ve had something to do with a screwy storm we went through a week or so before. What? Did the same thing happen to you?”
“Yeah. Well, the destroyermen saw it; we were underwater,” Laumer supplied. “Said it was a big, scary green squall of some kind.”
Mackey shook his head. “We didn’t see it. We were all belowdecks on that damn, nasty tub. We felt it, though. Queer.”
“We ‘came through’ around March first, ’forty-two. You’ve got almost two years on us. What happened to you… and how’s the war going?”
Mackey blinked and looked disoriented. “Gosh, I don’t know where t
o start! I’ll tell what happened to us; then maybe I can bring you up to speed on the war later.” He looked at Okada. “The Jap’s right, though. We didn’t get a lot of news; I was in a camp outside of”-he shrugged-“well, I guess not far from here,” he said oddly. “But sometimes, Filipinos on the outside who had radios stashed snuck in the big headlines to us when they could, to keep our morale up.” He glared at Okada again. Apparently, the man’s earlier comments still rankled. “The Jap’s goose is cooked, and we’ve got ’em on the run. That was why they started shipping us prisoners out of the Philippines to Japan where they could keep working us to death. We got on that damn maru-you should’ve seen the sign they posted! Everything you can imagine, basically breathing at the wrong time, would get you shot and thrown over the side! Anyway, we were some of the first ones sent. More than a thousand got on another ship, just a few hundred on the one that brought us here-it was just stopping through. Had a bunch of Brits, Aussies, Dutch, and Javanese slaves already in her. Neither ship was marked to show there were prisoners aboard, and the other ship got torpedoed and sunk by a sub. We got strafed by planes and took an aerial torpedo, but the fish just poked a hole in the bow and didn’t go off. Drowned a bunch of guys down in the forward hold-hell, the Japs on deck shot fellas trying to get out! It was unbelievable!”
Okada stood still at last, staring straight ahead, his face granite. Shinya looked almost ill.
“They kept us down in the holds like animals, cattle-worse! Hell, nobody would ship animals like that! I don’t know how many died every day; starved, sick, thirsty, covered in filth…” For a moment, he couldn’t go on. “Finally,” he said at last, “we got to Japan-only it wasn’t there! We didn’t know what was up, but the Japs on deck got all screwy and yelled a lot. A couple of our guys were China Marines, out of the Fourth, and had some of the lingo. They said the Japs kept jabbering that ‘the world was gone,’ or something. Anyway, there was nothing we could do but wait in the dark until things sort of settled down.”
One of Saan-Kakja’s attendants brought refreshments, and Mackey took a mug, staring at the ’Cat the whole time. Like most Lemurians, she wasn’t wearing a top, and because he was seated, her breasts were prominent and right at Mackey’s eye level. Sandra understood his reaction; it had been universal among Walker ’s crew when they first met the “People.” Mackey had seen Lemurians before now, among Okada’s folk, but he couldn’t be used to it yet. She nodded, and he took a tenative sip from the mug.
“Uh, thank you, ma’am,” he said to the ’Cat, a little self-consciously.
“What then?” Sandra pressed gently.
“After that, things went pretty much like Okada said. They herded us ashore and just started shooting.” Mackey looked at his companion. “Orrin and I and a bunch of other fellas lit out as best we could.” The tears started again. “Most were too weak or too far gone to even try, and of those that did, just a few made it.”
“How many?”
“All told, maybe sixty out of five hundred,” he said, taking a long gulp from the cup and holding it tight in both hands. “Mostly Americans and Filipinos, I guess, but a few Brits and Aussies too. And some of those poor Javanese.” He shook his head. “I think those poor devils had it worse than any of us. They were animals, far as the Japs were concerned, and were practically dead when we first saw ’em.”
“Didn’t they chase you?” Laumer asked.
Mackey shook his head. “What for?” He sighed. “I don’t know. They couldn’t feed us, they’d decided not to… eat us, and they damn sure didn’t want us. Maybe they figured killing us was a mercy.”
“So, sixty-odd survivors,” Sandra said hopefully.
“No, ma’am. Not now. Some were wounded, and others just… died. Too far gone, I guess. I’ll give Okada’s people that. They did their best to save us. Took pretty good care of us, as a matter of fact.” He passed Okada an almost-apologetic glance. “I was mainly mad about that ‘happy East Asia’ bunk he was spouting earlier…” He considered. “I guess there’re maybe forty-five of us left, or there were. He brought Orrin and me along to prove his story, and because we were some of the fittest officers for travel. Sergeant Cecil Dixon-he’s the other man-saved us too many times to count. We insisted he come too. There’re other guys in better shape than us; some Filipino Scouts, some Army footsloggers”-he shook his head-“and those China Marines. Weird ducks, but talk about survivors! We left them in charge.”
“No other officers?”
“There are; even a captain and a major, but most are in pretty rough shape. Everything from dysentery to malaria. Some of them are probably goners too, unless you have quinine.”
Sandra shook her head. “No quinine, I’m afraid, but we have other things that may help. We’ll do everything we can.” A bolt of terror suddenly slashed through her. “Commander Okada! Malaria!”
Okada was already nodding grimly. So far, the mosquitoes of this world, at least in the areas they’d touched, didn’t carry or transmit anything they’d noticed. Animals and ’Cats did get sick with evident viruses, but nothing seemed to pass to humans, or vice versa, and mosquitoes left nothing but large, itchy welts that sometimes got topically infected. Some of Walker ’s crew had suffered from malaria before, but there’d been no recurrences. Sandra theorized mosquitoes here had evolved a means of “decontaminating” the blood they took. After all, passing diseases among one’s food supply seemed a rather illogical evolutionary adaptation. Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe something in the diet here, perhaps even the various inebriating or curative products derived from the amazing polta fruit once again played a role? Regardless…
“Those with diseases of that sort are kept inside at all times, smeared evident protective lotions, and surrounded by a cordon of smoky fires.” Okada said. “It is all we can do.”
Sandra noticed he didn’t blame the sick men for this new threat to “his” people. Furthermore, he’d already considered the risk, and he took it anyway. That spoke well for him.
Throughout this exchange, Saan-Kakja had remained silent, absorbing all. Like her friend Rebecca, she was a mere youngling, even by her people’s standards; yet she’d displayed a level of maturity, wisdom, and determination far beyond her years in many respects. She continued to do so now by cutting to the heart of the matter.
“You have made your report… Mr. Okaa-daa. Forgive me if I’m not yet familiar with this new title you claim. I will try to learn how to speak it. You have my gratitude, and that of the Alliance as a whole, I’m sure. Not only have you rendered assistance to friends of our friends, but you bring warning of this… rogue force that wanders waters the Alliance considers its own. As I said before, we must decide how this news affects our priorities-and what we can do for you in return for this service.”
“With respect, Your Excellency, I might make a few recommendations-and a request.”
Saan-Kakja glanced briefly at her advisors and bowed her head.
“First, beyond a perhaps-increased patrol, equipped with the wireless gear you possess, we were not challenged short of your harbor defenses ourselves,” he inserted pointedly, “you should not significantly alter your plans. I understand you suffered sorely from the tsunami that also lightly affected my land, and in addition to the Grik menace, you also confront a new enemy in the east.”
“That is true,” Saan-Kakja conceded, “and with the demands of war and disaster, few resources have been spared for patrolling waters we considered secure. That must change. But surely, with this ‘Hido-i-aame’ full of murderers on the loose, we cannot ignore it!”
“You must not,” Okada agreed, “but it is alone and isolated for now. I trust you have monitored no transmissions of unknown origin?”
Shinya’s face reflected some doubt, but he shook his head. “There’s always… noise that sounds tantalizingly like communications, but nothing definitive from any but expected sources. If Hidoiame or her consort transmitted, they’d be heard.”
; “I’m sure they can transmit,” Okada said, “Even Mizuki Maru has serviceable, if antiquated communications gear.” He blinked. “I’m frankly astonished they didn’t take it with them, or destroy it. Possibly, they were still somewhat overwhelmed. Regardless, you can be sure they’ve been monitoring your transmissions. Most likely, your code is secure, but they will recognize it as an American code. They will be cautious. They have no idea what they face, and no real understanding of their situation beyond what the people of Ani-aaki tried to tell them.”
His face clouded. “They will search for a place to stop, refit, consider their circumstances-much as we… or the American destroyers did when they arrived. Though powerful, I doubt they will seek heavily populated areas, at least with the same aggression they displayed at my Home. That said, even with the tanker, one of their most pressing concerns will be fuel, and that narrows the regional choices their commanders might make. The American defenses at Tarakan Island should be strengthened, for example. It was well-known in our world to be rich in petroleum. If they arrive here, or at other well-defended Allied ports, they could stand off beyond the range of your heavy guns and do much damage to your forts, but not enough to survive a forced passage, I suspect. Hidoiame is no Amagi. Consider her a more modern, more capable version of Walker. Even she couldn’t enter Maa-ni-la if you didn’t want her to. If Hidoiame does come seeking assistance, enters within range of your guns, you will know her. You can pound her to scrap or force her surrender, and capture the murderers aboard. In any event, as long as she does not slip so far away as to join your”-he paused, and his jaw muscles worked-“ our enemies, there are only so many places she can hide without our learning her whereabouts.”
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