Distant Thunders d-4

by Taylor Anderson

  “I did not even know they were here,” Rolak admitted.

  “Maybe they haven’t been for long, or at least not in any numbers. Our first and only meeting with them on Bali proved to us they were pretty smart. They didn’t carry weapons, but then they didn’t really need them, did they? They may have been leaking over here from Bali or other islands for a long time and just staying to themselves. As primitive as they were, compared to our enemies, they actually displayed even better tactical sense. Courtney’s long believed that Grik behavior has more to do with societal conditioning than anything else.”

  “That might explain why the prisoners act so different,” Ellis speculated. “After we licked them here, they wandered on their own for a while. Maybe they had time to think things over a little.”

  There was silence for a moment while everyone contemplated the significance of that.

  “All the more reason we must not give the enemy more time to think things over,” Safir said.

  “If I were a member of this Alliance, I would tend to agree with the Queen Protector,” Harvey Jenks said with a touch of irony. It was the first time he’d spoken, beyond civilities, since he’d come aboard. Something had changed in his demeanor ever since he went ashore and saw the aftermath of the Grik occupation for himself. Aryaal and B’mbaado were unusual cities, perhaps unique among Lemurians. Even before the Grik came, they’d been built of stone with stout walls to protect the inhabitants. The devastated architecture was more similar to Imperial construction than any other he’d seen so far, or than he cared to admit. It was as though he’d experienced a premonition of what would happen if the Grik ever threatened his home.

  The rabidly gruesome nature of the enemy the Allies faced had been driven in to the hilt as well, and he felt he understood them and their motives much better now. The heads had been taken down and sent to the sky in the fires and much of the debris had been cleared, but the mental image remained. The thaw in his attitude toward the Allies, and Matt in particular, had continued at an accelerated pace. Still, he’d clearly been surprised to be included in this strategy session. He hadn’t given any assurances that he was at their disposal or that he’d help them in any way. He had begun to consider himself on their side just a little, however.

  “Jenks is right,” agreed Rolak. “We cannot linger here. Has that vile creature”-he referred to Rasik-Alcas-“spilled any more beans?”

  Matt shook his head. “He’s told us all he knows about what happened here, and a little more about his activities while in exile, but he knows we’ve already measured him for a noose. No matter how fair we make it, the outcome of any trial is a foregone conclusion. He’s guilty as hell and he knows everybody knows it. When he’s not off in the land of Oz, he’s sharp enough to be scary. The guy’s a real psycho.”

  “No clues about what he found?” asked Ellis.

  Matt shook his head. “The crummy thing is, I think there is something. Everything we thought we knew about the Squall that brought us here is changing all the time. First, we thought it was just us and Mahan. Then the PBY. Then we learned about Amagi. Why wasn’t it there when the Squall passed? Okada said they came out of it in the dark, probably sometime during the night after we did. Unlike us, they were moving with it, not through it. Is it possible that by staying in it longer, they experienced its effects longer too?” He shook his head. “I doubt even Courtney has an answer for that. Anyway, we now know the sub came through as well. It was pretty far away, judging by the log we brought back, but close enough to hear our fight on the surface. How close was the PBY?” He shrugged. “Up till now, we’ve assumed we were it, but what if we weren’t? That was a big squall and the track it took might have sucked up anything. Why some things and not others? No clue. Maybe the energy or local intensity had something to do with that. Anyway, we need to start thinking about the possibility that other stuff did come through, and if it did, we damn sure want to find it before the Japs and Grik do.” He snorted. “His Nasty Highness did confirm that they watched a bunch of Japs get off Esshk’s ship when it stopped here, roam around unattended, then get back on, so I guess they didn’t eat the bastards after all.”

  “Pity,” Ellis said.

  “Yeah. The thing is, though, Rasik thinks if he tells us what he found, we’ll just kill him anyway. He insists on showing us.”

  “We promised him clemency; what more does he expect?” spat Safir. It was the first time she’d agreed to the “deal” that had been proposed. She hated the very idea of letting Rasik live. Chack, who’d remained uncharacteristically silent, put a hand on her shoulder and stroked it.

  “It does not matter,” Rolak grumbled. “He still expects to be killed. He views all things in terms of what he would do in our place.”

  “I’ll get it out of him,” Alden promised.

  Matt laughed. “Pete, I bet you and Boats could get him to confess he painted the moon, but that wouldn’t do us much good.” He thought for a moment, staring at the bleak shoreline. There was a lot of activity: building a new dock, erecting tents, and preparing materials for structures that would serve as forward supply depots. Few would remain at first, when the Allies moved on. They had more pressing business. Aryaalans and B’mbaadans would return, however, and begin the work of rebuilding.

  “Here’s the deal,” he said at last. “We have to move. The scout we sent to Singapore reports the Grik are pulling out there too. We need to get there before they leave it like this.” He gestured shoreward. “We also have to know if Rasik’s pulling our chain. He says the things he found are accessible by sea, near Tjilatjap-Chill-chaap.” He looked at Jim. “Not at Chill-chaap, but near it, so your guys would have missed it when they went ashore there.”

  Jim winced slightly. They hadn’t exactly been his guys at that point.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Matt continued. “You take Dowden and a company of Marines and see what Rasik has to show you. If you can do it without puking, try to buddy up to him. He doesn’t really know you, after all. Maybe he’ll let something slip.”

  “May I command the Marine company, Captain Reddy?” Chack asked.

  Matt hesitated. “I’d rather have you with me, but I guess so. Just don’t remind the silly bastard you’re the one who trapped him with fire and left him to be eaten by the Grik!”

  “He cannot know that,” Chack said.

  “Right. Say, talk to Koratin. Maybe he can convince him he’s on his side. Might get something out of him. Anyway, while you’re doing that I’ll take the rest of the fleet and all the troops we can transfer out of Dowden and head for Singapore. You meet us there if you can. Stay in wireless contact. If something breaks down you can’t fix, come back here.”

  “Aye-aye, Skipper. We’ll meet you at Singapore,” Jim promised. “If there’s a fight, I don’t want to miss it.”

  Chack looked at Safir and caressed her furry cheek. They’d made no announcement at Aryaal after all. They hadn’t had the heart. No one felt much like celebrating the reconquest of Aryaal and B’mbaado. “Do not fear, my love. I shall see you at Sing-aapore.”

  Matt looked at Jenks. “Commodore, if you’d care to dine with me, I’d appreciate it. Juan?” he called, summoning the Filipino who always hovered nearby, “if he has no objection, please escort Commodore Jenks to my quarters. I’ll be along directly.”

  Knowing he was being dismissed, but not resenting it-he wasn’t a member of the Alliance, after all-Jenks bowed and went with Juan.

  Matt turned to Jim. “Take O’Casey with you. I think he’s a good guy and he might be a help. Besides, I expect to be spending a lot of time with Commodore Jenks over the next few weeks, and O’Casey needs a break. He can’t keep hiding forever.”

  CHAPTER 13

  O ne of the changes Adar had made during the reconstruction of Nakja-Mur’s Great Hall (he still had difficulty considering it his Great Hall) was the addition of a number of separate chambers. Some of these were offices, such as the War Room, which was usually occ
upied by Matt when he was present. Letts had a small office of his own as well. There was also a conference room large enough to accommodate a fair number of attendees while still being relatively cozy. He’d been inspired in this by Keje. In Keje’s case, the chamber on Salissa wasn’t partitioned, but he often had informal, intimate meetings around a simple wooden table supplied with crude stools. In Adar’s conference room, the table was bigger of necessity, and there were more stools, but there were also a number of the more traditional cushions for guests to lounge upon. The somewhat uncomfortable stools tended to keep those present awake and relatively alert, but Adar had discovered that often, people he met with needed to contribute only brief reports or accounts. There was no reason for them to suffer while others hashed things out. Many times, for example, he’d watched an exhausted Ben Mallory fall fast asleep on a comfortable cushion while Captain Reddy and the members of his battle line discussed the ramifications of his aerial observations.

  Mallory wasn’t here for this discussion. Those present were essentially the same ones he and Alan discussed inviting earlier, with the exception of Keje, whom Adar had asked to attend as well. Most of them-Letts, Sister Audry, Rebecca, Sandra, and Keje-joined Adar on stools around the table. Only Spanky and Courtney took advantage of the cushions. Spanky was exhausted after his perpetual “watch-on-watches,” and claimed to be only marginally Catholic anyway. Adar got the impression he didn’t know why he was there. Courtney was fascinated by the looming discussion, but he always accepted a cushion (and the beer he preferred over seep) when the occasion allowed.

  Adar had secretly hoped Alan Letts would start things off, but for once, the light-skinned officer waited for Adar to begin. “Well,” he said at last. “I suppose we must hammer things out, as you Amer-i-caans so aptly phrase it. Mr. Letts and I have long planned what he calls an economic discussion, but there appears to be a more pressing matter before us. The economic discussion will… must happen, I’m sure, but it need not require the presence of some of you. What we must fashion this evening is some sort of accommodation between what appears to be a growing spiritual factionalism.” He blinked at Sister Audry.

  “I have long enjoyed our brief discussions concerning your faith and how it may have… influenced ours historically, but until recently I presumed you understood my fears that openly revealing that faith might contribute to a schism of some kind among our people-right when our growing unity is our greatest advantage. Aryaalans, B’mbaadans, and even Sularans hold substantially different beliefs from most sea folk, and even the People of Baalkpan, yet those differences are primarily matters of interpretation. The fundamental belief system is quite similar. We all revere the Sun and the Heavens, even if we place slightly different emphasis on one or the other, and our understandings of our lives beyond this one are somewhat different as well. Still, the differences are little more profound than the color of our fur. My dear Sister Audry, the differences you preach are far more profound-and potentially more corrosive to the mutual trust and understanding my people have achieved.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Sister Audry replied in her strangely accented English.

  “Of course you do,” Adar remonstrated gently. “I consider you a personal friend, and I thought we had an understanding. You assured me you would do nothing to undermine the solidity of the Alliance during this time of trial.”

  “I have not!” Sister Audry declared. She sighed. “My order is not given to radicalism. It is not even much given to aggressive evangelism. I come from a place that was mostly Mohammadan, after all. Immoderation of speech is not our… my way, except when it pertains to intellectual works and teaching.”

  “And yet your ‘teachings’ have gained a number of converts to your faith,” Adar stated as fact. “Ordinarily, I would not concern myself. I cannot dictate faith… and I find myself curiously drawn to some of what you say myself. Much requires reconciliation, but it was my understanding that you understood our position and would allow me time to consider the merits of our… discussions, and decide how best to proceed with that reconciliation. These converts of yours have begun to be noticed, performing unusual rites. Rites that might be misunderstood. That which is strange and poorly understood can bring persecution and factionalism.”

  “It has not been my intention to abuse your trust, Mr. Chairman. I do what I may for the good of the people and you have my ungrudging obedience. But when people ask about the true faith, I must tell them. I cannot lie!”

  “But there we have our difficulty.” Adar drummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “Here in Baalkpan we have our own ‘true faith.’ It may be observed in different ways, but its basic tenets are a source of unity. You preach an entirely different true faith, and that creates doubt and possibly disunity. At this critical time, I fear your revelations.”

  “What if it’s not really a different true faith,” Sandra said slowly. “I’m not Catholic. I was raised Presbyterian, but Sister Audry believes much the same as I do. Only the practices are essentially different. Even among your people, there’s a single Maker of All Things. I know many of your people believe He is personified by the Sun, and I guess that’s understandable. First, there was apparently some misunderstanding passed down from the original tail-less ones, in which your people interpreted the ‘Son’ to mean the ‘Sun.’ ” Also, even among my people, the sun-as the most impressive object in the heavens and the most obvious life-giving object visible above all things-is often venerated as the embodiment of the Maker. But generally, we believe the Maker, or God, is all-powerful, and as such, He made the sun as well. Why would that concept be so difficult for your people to grasp?”

  “Yeah,” said Spanky, rousing slightly. “As I said, I’m a little backslid, but I always figured if God wanted to be the sun for a while, nobody’s going to tell Him He can’t. Basically, we’re talking a God with even greater powers than some of your folks have ever given him credit for. I like to think, if we can keep Him on our side in this war, the bigger and more powerful He is, the better. Think about it like this: if Sister Audry’s right about her interpretation of this probably same Maker of All Things, maybe you shouldn’t alienate Him by making her shut her trap. Maybe you should think more, not less, about incorporating her teachings and reconciling things now before He throws up his hands and leaves us on our own.”

  “Cover all our bases, is that what you mean?” demanded Letts.

  Spanky shrugged. “Why not? No atheists in trenches-or engine rooms-when somebody’s trying to shoot holes in them. What are you all worked up about, anyway?”

  “I was always kind of a Mormon,” Letts confessed.

  “Jeez!”

  “See what I mean?”

  “What?”

  Courtney finished his beer and belched politely. “The problem, Mr. McFarlane, is that there are at least as many different versions of Christianity as there are versions of the various Lemurian faiths. I won’t even go into Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism…” He shook his head. “For Catholicism to be the sole representative of human religion on this world might cause some dissent from our very own human ranks!”

  Sister Audry glared at Courtney. “I’m sure I don’t understand why you are even here, Mr. Bradford! I gather you are a Darwinist, and little I can imagine could be more corrosive to spiritual unity than the teachings you espouse-that you regularly, openly engage in!”

  Courtney goggled at the nun. The sudden attack against him came as a complete surprise. He’d expected to have little participation in the discussion-thus the beer-and had accepted the invitation more out of curiosity than any other reason. He had to remind himself that Sister Audry really didn’t know him well. “My dear sister,” he began, imposing a moderate tone. “I am a Darwinist, as you put it, through evidentiary discovery and understanding, not faith. In faith, I do not recognize even you as my superior!” He glanced at Adar and raised a brow. “One of the discoveries, or rather rediscoveries, I’ve made since coming to yo
ur world is that I too am quite the Christian!”

  “How utterly preposterous!” scoffed the nun. “How can one possibly be both an evolutionist and a Christian?”

  “Quite comfortably and compatibly, I assure you,” Courtney said. “In fact, I invariably find the one position complements the other! Even before I came to this fascinating world, I witnessed- witnessed, my dear-the endless, unstoppable force of evolution at work on a daily basis. In all of that, I saw the direction of the very hand of God”-he glanced at Adar again-“or the Maker of All Things.” He looked back at Sister Audry. “How do you define evolution? I define it as physical and behavioral adaptation to any given species’ environment or situation. Behavior can adapt quite rapidly. You have adapted somewhat to your circumstances here, have you not? Physical adaptations take more time, and there, I think-if you’ll pardon the expression-is the rub between us. Particularly in respect to how those physical adaptations may have been manifested in humanity.”

  Sister Audry jerked a nod, and Courtney drew himself up on his cushion. “Personally, I do not believe I am evolved from an ape, although I am relatively certain my ex-wife’s father was. Such a hairy, bestial, primitive…!” He shook his head. “In any event, I don’t see that it matters. Why limit God’s imagination? I believe He, like any master architect, would perceive the sundry ways in which His various creations might be better formed to suit their conditions. By His hand, those adaptations would begin!”