by Eric Flint
“Still,” O’Donnell observed with a nod, “he was wily enough to include all the information you need to create a logical progression of imperatives.”
I keep forgetting Hugh went to college, killed it, and got a degree. Probably in classic rhetoric, from the sound of it. “That is correct. And while those of us who saw the message can’t be certain about the situational dominos or how they’ll fall, I don’t think this model could be too far off.
“First, some of you have seen the classified traffic about the Ottoman attack, so I think we can be pretty sure who the enemy is going to be in the Med. Which means, in turn, that Admiral Simpson is going to need all the help he can get, particularly if he’s rushing to put out a fire rather than mounting a planned operation. Either way, nobody in their right mind takes the Ottomans lightly. And let’s not forget that—”
Eddie began counting off on his fingers. “One: if the USE loses or is crippled in a war, that’s probably the end of everything we’ve achieved here. Without that support, we’re dead in eighteen months, tops.
“Two: Admiral Simpson’s message is his necessarily oblique way of giving us a heads-up about the very real possibility of that happening.
“Three: the only meaningful assets we can get in theater quickly, and that are strong enough to be of significant help, are our steam warships.
“Four: three ships is not a lot, so we have to amplify their potential tactical impact. The only way we can do that is by preserving the element of surprise. Which means traveling silently and secretly so that no one—not even Simpson—knows we’re coming.”
There were nods all around the table.
“We need a name,” Rik blurted out. “For this task force, I mean.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“In your up-time literature,” Karl commented, “it seems that such code names are usually both enigmatic yet meaningful in retrospect. Is this true?”
Eddie shrugged. “Uh . . . I guess?”
“Well then, as you mean this formation to turn the tide, I suggest ‘inflection point.’”
Spoken like a true math nerd. “That has a nice ring to it, Karl . . . but isn’t it a bit too obvious?”
Klemm frowned, thinking.
Hugh smiled. “Now, there is the surprise aspect as well.”
Rik nodded. “Ah! So something more like, Unexpected Inflection?”
Hugh shook his head, glanced at Eddie. “Actually, I was thinking how very surprised Admiral Simpson is going to be when his protégé shows up to lend a needed hand.”
“Protégé?” Eddie scoffed. “Given that I’m probably doing the last thing he wanted me to do, I’m hardly going to be any kind of prize pupil or golden child. More like a prodigal son.”
Hugh just grinned and nodded. Then Rik did as well. Even Kees joined in.
Karl was frowning even more deeply than before. “Commodore, why are they all smiling that way? It is most disturbing.”
Eddie shrugged. “Beats me, Karl. Gentlemen?”
Hugh seemed ready to laugh. “And you didn’t even hear yourself name your own task force, just then? Now an’ it’s sure there’s no using anything else!”
Rik leaned forward. “Commodore: ‘Prodigal Inflection.’”
“Oh,” said Eddie. “Yeah, sure. I guess.” Those cool-sounding code names always sounded a bit too melodramatic to him. “Rik, I’d like you to work as senior staff officer for uh, Task Force Prodigal Inflection. Kees, I want you to be his second. Under different circumstances, I’d make sure at least one of you was on my flagship, but I need one senior naval officer who’s aware of our actual mission on every hull. So, first order of business is to get a schedule for the next twenty-four hours. That means we set preparation tasks, benchmarks, and target times for completion. We also need to plot a course, and no, Karl, you can’t help; you’ve got to learn your new job here before we leave. Now: questions?”
“Just one,” Evertsen replied. “Choosing a course in this situation may mean having to balance speed against other factors, such as prevailing storm paths and avoiding the places where we are more likely to encounter other ships. What is the priority, sir?”
Eddie didn’t have to think. “Speed.”
“I see. So when is the latest you feel it acceptable to enter the Mediterranean, Commodore?”
Eddie Cantrell sighed. “Yesterday, Kees. Yesterday. Now let’s get to work.”
Cast of Characters
Anne Cathrine Oldest daughter of Christian IV; “king’s daughter,” not “princess,” because she is not in the line of succession
Banckert, Adriaen Dutch naval officer
Banckert, Joost Vice admiral of the Dutch Fleet
Bjelke, Henrik Lieutenant, Norwegian nobleman
Brandão, Ambrósio Sephardic physician
Cantrell, Eddie Commodore and senior officer presently of the USE Navy
Carpentiere, Servatius Councilor of St. Eustatia
Chaffin, Mason Up-timer, in charge of Jennings Oil Field, Louisiana
Christian IV King of Denmark
Corselles, Pieter Lieutenant governor of Oranjestad
d’Esnambuc, sieur Pierre Bélain Adventurer, ex-governor of French St. Christopher
de Bruyne, Jehan Councilor of St. Eustatia
de Castellar y Mantilla, Gregorio Spanish captain
de Contreras, Alonso Spanish captain
de Covilla, Eugenio Spanish captain
de Curco y San Joan de Olacabal, Antonio Spanish admiral of La Flota
de Irarraga, Juan Spanish captain
de la Plaza Equiluz, Antonio Spanish captain
de Murga y Ortiz de Orué, Francisco Governor of Cartagena Berrio
de Ruyter (Adriaenszoon), Michiel Dutch lieutenant
de Somovilla Tejada, Juan Spanish lieutenant; field engineer
Álvarez De Toledo, Fadrique Spanish admiral
de Viamonte y Navarra, Juan Bitrian Captain-general of Hispaniola and Santo Domingo
Diego (de Los Reyes) Ex-pirate
Evertsen, Cornelis (“Kees”) Dutch lieutenant
Floriszoon, Pieter Dutch captain
Gallagher, Neal Lieutenant, Wild Geese
Gallardo, Manrique Spanish captain and engineer
Garrett, Jennifer Up-timer, Louisiana oil surveyor
Haet, Jan Councilor of St. Eustatia
Hargault, Marcel French engineer; balloon designer
Hart, Morgan Up-timer, Louisiana rig chief
Hyarima Nepoia cacique
Jol, Cornelis (“Houtebeen Peg Leg”) Dutch admiral
Klemm, Karl Technical expert and oil prospector, assistant to Larry Quinn
Koudsi, Ann Oil drilling expert
Leonora “King’s daughter” of King Christian, sister of Anne Cathrine
McCarthy, Jr., Mike Up-timer, technical instructor
Mulryan, Tearlach Ensign, Wild Geese
Mund, Edel Widow of Pros Mund
Musen, Hans Councilor of St. Eustatia
O’Bannon, Kevin Major, Wild Geese
O’Donnell, Hugh Albert Earl of Tyrconnell, colonel of the Wild Geese
O’Rourke, Aodh Aide-de-camp to Hugh O’Donnell; senior sergeant of the Wild Geese
Pudsey, Cuthbert English mercenary in Dutch service
Quinn, Larry Major, USE Army, CO of Louisiana special project forces
Rantzau, Sophie Danish noblewoman
Rohrbach, Ulrich Oil drilling foreman
Sehested, Hannibal Danish nobleman; agent of King Christian
Serooskereken, Philip (“Phipps”) Councilor of St. Eustatia
Simonszoon, Dirck Dutch captain
Stirke, Timothy Bermudan ship captain
Svantner, Arne Lieutenant, XO of Intrepid
Touman Kalinago cacique
Tromp, Maarten Admiral of the Dutch fleet
Tulak Ishak chieftain
van Walbeeck, Jan Governor of St. Eustatia
van Holst, Hjalmar Dutch captain
G
lossary of Terms
Ship types
Ship designs and designations were not standardized in the early seventeenth century. The definitions that follow are therefore approximations which are generally accurate but from which any particular ship might deviate to one extent or another.
By the period covered in this book (1636–7), up-time influence upon down-time naval architecture begins to complicate some of these terms further. For instance, the Spanish fragata was originally a smaller square-rigged whip with the same overall lines as the galleon. However, in this book, just as the Dutch and the USE have begun to launch true “frigates” with much different lines and hull shapes, the Spanish (and other powers) have begun to make similar changes. This means that sometimes the correspondence between these terms in actual history, and what they mean when encountered here, may have begun to diverge significantly.
Barca-longa: A two- and sometimes three-masted lugger, a vessel using a lugsail, which is a modified version of a square sail. Often used as fishing vessels.
Bark (Barque): A small vessel with three or more masts, the foremasts being square-rigged and the aftermast rigged fore-and-aft.
Fluyt: A Dutch cargo vessel, generally two to three hundred tons, about eighty feet long, and with a distinctive pear shape when viewed fore or aft.
Galleon: A three- or four-masted warship developed from the heavy Carrack cargo ships, but with a longer and lower design. Not usually more than six hundred tons. Typically, the mizzenmast was lateen-rigged.
Galleoncete: A smaller galleon, generally of one hundred to two hundred tons. Many were designed to be able to use oars. New models are more streamlined and do not have provisions for oars.
Jacht: An agile and fast vessel with very shallow draft, originally developed by the Dutch to hunt pirates in the shallow waters of the Low Countries.
Nao: A galleon adapted for cargo-hauling.
Patache: A light two-masted vessel with a shallow draft, often favored by pirates and privateers.
Piragua: A one- or two-masted native boat that was also adopted by the Spanish and pirates. It was narrow, often made from the trunk of a tree, and could be sailed or rowed. Commonly for a crew of six to thirty.
Gun Types
As with ship types, naval ordnance was not yet standardized in the early seventeenth century. It varied widely over time and between nations. The definitions reflect this extreme diversity.
As with ships, artillery, particularly as used aboard ships, have begun to diverge significantly from historical norms. Greater standardization is occurring, resulting in changes of terminology. Also, whereas guns encountered on ships during this historical period often had similar or identical carriages to their land-based counterparts, distinctions between naval and land versions of the same gun are becoming much more prevalent. However, the heterogeneity of guns among the same type, and of different bore/weight pieces in the same battery, persists.
Cannon: A “true” cannon is a very large gun which fired a ball of 42 pounds. As naval carriages became more prevalent, however, the term cannon was used for a variety of larger standardized weapons or “pieces,” particularly those firing 32-pound and 24-pound balls. Also, as the distinction between naval and land-based guns of the same pedigree grew, it became common in some circles to refer to a naval piece as a “gun,” and a land piece as a “cannon.”
Carronade: A short-barreled gun firing shot that ranged from 6 to 68 pounds. They were much lighter than cannons firing an equivalent weight of shot, but had much shorter range. Predominantly used as a broadside weapon, it was originally designed specifically for naval combat.
Culverin: More lightly constructed than cannons, guns of this type fired shot from 16 to 22 pounds.
Demi-cannon: A gun-firing shot weighing from 22 to 32 pounds.
Demi-culverin: Slightly larger than a saker, this weapon fired shot from 9 to 16 pounds.
Peterero: Predominantly antipersonnel weapons, petereroes could be any of a number of weapons mounted on the rails or along the gunwales of ships and boats.
Saker: A small carriage-mounted gun, firing shot of eight pounds or less.
Rigging Terms
Fore-and-aft-rigged: A sailing rig consisting mainly of sails that are set along the line of the keel rather than perpendicular to it.
Foremast: The mast nearest the bow of a ship.
Lateen-rigged: A type of fore-and-aft rig in which a triangular sail is suspended on a long yard set at an angle to the mast.
Mainmast: The principal mast of a sailing vessel.
Mizzenmast: The mast aft or next aft of the mainmast.
Square-rigged: A sail and rigging design in which the main sails are carried on horizontal spars that are perpendicular, or square, to the keel of the vessel and to the masts.
Stay: A strong rope or wire supporting a mast.
Yards: The spars holding up sails.
Yardarms: The tips of the yards.
Afterword
Recommended reading order for the
1632 series (aka the Ring of Fire series)
By Eric Flint
June 20, 2019
Whenever someone asks me “what’s the right order?” for reading the 1632 series, I’m always tempted to respond: “I have no idea. What’s the right order for studying the Thirty Years’ War? If you find it, apply that same method to the 1632 series.”
However, that would be a bit churlish—and when it comes down to it, authors depend upon the goodwill of their readers. So, as best I can, here goes.
The first book in the series, obviously, is 1632. That is the foundation novel for the entire series and the only one whose place in the sequence is definitely fixed.
Thereafter, you should read either the anthology titled Ring of Fire or the novel 1633, which I co-authored with David Weber. It really doesn’t matter that much which of these two volumes you read first, so long as you read them both before proceeding onward. That said, if I’m pinned against the wall and threatened with bodily harm, I’d recommend that you read Ring of Fire before you read 1633.
That’s because 1633 has a sequel which is so closely tied to it that the two volumes almost constitute one single huge novel. So, I suppose you’d do well to read them back-to-back. That sequel is 1634: The Baltic War, which I also co-authored with David Weber.
Once you’ve read those four books—to recapitulate, the three novels (1632, 1633 and 1634: The Baltic War) and the Ring of Fire anthology—you can now choose one of two major alternative ways of reading the series.
The first way, which I’ll call “spinal,” is to begin by reading all of the novels in what I will call the main line of the series. As of now, the main line consists of these seven novels:
1632
1633 (with David Weber)
1634: The Baltic War (with David Weber)
1635: The Eastern Front
1636: The Saxon Uprising
1636: The Ottoman Onslaught
1637: The Polish Maelstrom
All of these novels except the two I did with David Weber were written by me as the sole author. The next main line novel, whose working title is 1637: The Adriatic Decision, I will be writing with Chuck Gannon (Dr. Charles E. Gannon, if you want to get formal about it). That novel probably won’t come out for a while, however, because there is a novel that has to be written first, in order to lay the basis for it.
I call this the “main line” of the Ring of Fire series for two reasons. First, because it’s in these seven novels that I depict most of the major political and military developments which have a tremendous impact on the entire complex of stories. Secondly, because these “main line” volumes focus on certain key characters in the series. Four of them, in particular: Mike Stearns and Rebecca Abrabanel, first and foremost, as well as Gretchen Richter and Jeff Higgins.
The other major alternative way to read the series is what I will call “comprehensive.” This approach ignores the special place of the main line novels and simply
reads the series as an integral whole—i.e., reading each novel and anthology more or less in chronological sequence. (I’m referring to the chronology of the series itself, not the order in which the books were published. The two are by no means identical.)
The advantage to following the spinal way of reading the series is that it’s easier to follow since all of these novels are direct sequels to one another. You don’t have to deal with the complexity of reading all the branching stories at the same time. Once you’ve finished the main line novels, assuming you’re enjoying the series enough to want to continue, you can then go back and start reading the other books following the order I’ve laid out below.
The disadvantage to using the spinal method is that you’re going to run into spoilers. Most of the major political and military developments are depicted in the main line novels, but by no means all of them. So if spoilers really bother you, I’d recommend using the comprehensive approach.
All right. From here on, I’ll be laying out the comprehensive approach to the series. If you’ve decided to follow the spinal method, you can follow this same order of reading by just skipping the books you’ve already read.
Once you’ve read 1632, Ring of Fire, 1633, and 1634: The Baltic War, you will have a firm grasp of the basic framework of the series. From there, you can go in one of two directions: either read 1634: The Ram Rebellion or 1634: The Galileo Affair.
There are advantages and disadvantages either way. 1634: The Ram Rebellion is an oddball volume, which has some of the characteristics of an anthology and some of the characteristics of a novel. It’s perhaps a more challenging book to read than the Galileo volume, but it also has the virtue of being more closely tied to the main line books. Ram Rebellion is the first of several volumes which basically run parallel with the main line volumes but on what you might call a lower level of narrative. A more positive way of putting that is that these volumes depict the changes produced by the major developments in the main line novels, as those changes are seen by people who are much closer to the ground than the characters who figure so prominently in books like 1632, 1633, and 1634: The Baltic War.