B00BPJL400 EBOK

by Anderson, Taylor

  “What’re you talking about? What cavalry?” Matt demanded.

  “Do you remember the report of riders that showed Captain Saachic the way through the mountains?” Pete asked, and Matt nodded. “Well, they showed up again, maybe two thousand of ’em this time. Really weird ducks, ridin’ somethin’ like meanies—with horns! And they were a mix of humans and, well, a kind of continental Lemurian, I guess, for lack of a better description.” He snorted. “There’s some Czech guy in charge, if you can believe it! I can’t remember his name right off. They were happy as hell to be killin’ Grik, though. I had to send Saachic to stop ’em!”

  Matt looked around and blinked. “They want to join us?”

  “As long as we’re serious about killin’ Grik,” Pete confirmed. “I promised ’em we ain’t done by a long shot; just need a breathing spell. They were okay with that.” He gestured vaguely. “I told Saachic to deal with ’em for now.”

  “How extraordinary!” Courtney gushed. “A Czech! I wonder how he got here? And another race of Lemurians! I cannot wait to meet them! They must abide primarily beyond the range of the Grik. Perhaps they can tell us about Asia proper—even Europe!”

  Adar blinked quizzically at Courtney. “Indeed.” He turned back to Alden, clearly preferring to focus on what he considered more pressing matters. These strange people were not a threat, or they would’ve proven to be one already—or conquered the Grik on their own. “I gather that you intend for Sixth and Seventh Corps to replace the First and Second in their forward positions? And Tenth Corps should replace the Third as soon as it arrives?” Pete nodded. “In that case, Fifth and Eighth Corps will proceed to the cease-fire line you arranged in the south.” He looked at Rolak. “You and my dear General Queen Protector will march your noble troops back here to Madras for a well-deserved rest.”

  “And perhaps redeployment?” Rolak asked, looking at Matt.

  “We will see,” Adar said, glancing at Commander Herring. “I remain as keen, perhaps more so than anyone, to take the war to the very heart of the Grik empire—our own ancient, sacred shores—but our losses have been severe, and not only has one of the key ships we intended to take on our raid been hideously damaged”—he blinked apology at Brister—“but with Saanta Caatalina also ravaged, and S-Nineteen destroyed, we have nothing to send in its stead. It will be some time before the iron steamers we are building will be complete. I fear . . .” He sighed. “I fear we should postpone Cap-i-taan Reddy’s raid until we are better recovered from this campaign.”

  “With respect, Mr. Chairman,” Commander Herring said softly, “I believe that would be a mistake.”

  Matt had suspected Adar would urge caution. He always took heavy losses like blows to his own body. He’d need time to recover himself before ordering more people to their deaths. Matt wasn’t even sure he disagreed this time. But Herring’s turnaround caught him completely by surprise.

  Herring looked at him. “I’ve been wrong about a great many things, Captain Reddy, but most of all I’ve been wrong about you.” He snorted. “When you took Walker and Mahan against three Grik battleships and at least four cruisers, I was sure we were dead. It was most exciting,” he confessed, “but I really didn’t think we’d make it. Your . . . instinctive command style is so alien to me, I just assumed it was reckless, at best, and I’ve believed that ever since we met. But then I saw it in action and knew—knew—there’s no way I could do what you did. You mauled those Grik, and you did it so fast, by feel . . .” He blinked and cleared his throat. “Some people are born horsemen, I suppose. Others can learn to be very good through practice, but it’s never quite as natural to them.” He grimaced. “Some people never learn to even stay on a horse, and I hope I’m not one of those. My point is, though, that you fought your ship by instinct, while I would have still been analyzing everything to death even as my ship sank under me.” He turned to Adar. “The other night I learned to trust Captain Reddy’s instincts, and if he still thinks now is the right time to punch the Grik in the gut, I have to agree.” He smiled. “And it even makes sense from an analytical, strategic standpoint. The Grik are on their heels and will probably scramble to send reinforcements here. I say that, combined with our new allies in southern Africa, we should do more than simply raid Madagascar; we should send enough troops to open a whole new front!”

  “Yeah!” Silva barked, surprised to agree with Herring. “Th’ow their asses back on the ropes for a change!”

  Adar blinked sadly at Matt, but managed a smile. “Do you agree with Commander Herring?”

  Matt looked at Sandra, then nodded. “At least raid Madagascar—hard. We’ve no idea what they have there, so actually taking it would depend on what we find. We definitely need to get troops on the ground in southern Africa, though. If we’re going to ask the people there to join this fight for keeps—which it seems they’re ready to do—then we need to help them.”

  “Wait just a minute,” Sandra said. “I agree that a raid is just the thing, but trying to stay anywhere that far away . . . supply will be a nightmare!”

  “Sure,” Matt grinned, “but that’s what Mr. Letts is for. Besides, we have two major advantages. With active sonar on all our big ships and starting to be installed on the smaller ones, we can cross the open ocean, and the Grik can’t. Supply runs don’t have to come all the way here or even to Andaman, but can scoot straight west from Baalkpan through the Sunda Strait. We’ll also have Diego as a base of supply, which isn’t any farther on a straight shot than Andaman, and there’s—there should be—a bunch of other islands east of Madagascar that the Grik might’ve never found.”

  Sandra frowned. “You make it sound so easy.”

  Matt shook his head. “It won’t be. But it’s a big step in the right direction.” He nodded for her to look at Courtney’s expectant, beaming face. “And who knows? Whatever we run into along the way’ll be new to everybody, not just us. One way or another, I expect an . . . interesting trip!”

  EPILOGUE

  ////// Diego Garcia (Laa-laanti)

  Chack-Sab-At strolled the sandy, shady beach of Diego Garcia (called Laa-laanti by the natives) with Greg Garrett, Becker Lange, Lieutenant (jg) Winston “Winny” Rominger, and Lieutenant Miyata. They were looking at the veritable fleet gathered near the little island. Rominger’s PT squadron zooted about, making mock torpedo runs on Respite Island, the great floating dry dock supporting SMS Amerika. Donaghey was moored inside the bay itself and only her tall masts were visible, but taken as a whole, the motley collection of warships in the vicinity was a very odd sight. That wasn’t why Chack found it difficult to concentrate on the conversation flowing around him, though. Word had just arrived that the raid was a go, and not only would it be larger than originally envisioned, but his beloved Safir Maraan was coming to participate as well! He hadn’t seen her in so long, his chest felt fluttery at the very thought.

  “So, you’ve actually been to Madagascar?” Garrett asked Miyata, for maybe the tenth time.

  “I am—I have,” the young Japanese officer confirmed. “I have not seen it all, but I well know the environs of the Celestial Palace and the harbor that serves it.” His brows furrowed. “It is a desolate place, devoid of any life not Grik, but the land beyond the city seemed . . . wild, almost as if deliberately preserved as a zoo or park.” He took a deep, scouring breath. “The jungle was not enough to cover the stench of the city, however.”

  “But we will not be going in blind, at least,” Lange said thoughtfully. Obviously, he trusted the Jap completely. Winny Rominger didn’t, and he snorted to emphasize it.

  “I won’t be going in at all,” Greg grumped. “I’m supposed to scout the islands east of Madagascar for signs of Grik, then proceed with my mission of exploration!”

  “I fear you will never round the cape,” Lange warned again. “No sailing ship ever has, not from the east.”

  “Donaghey can do it,” Greg s
tated confidently. “Besides, I’m also supposed to stop at Alex-aandra—that’s how you say it, right?”

  “Close enough,” Lange chuckled. “The Kaiser will be most interested to meet you and hear your news.”

  “I’d rather be in the Skipper’s show,” Greg persisted. Chack stirred.

  “But you will be. Yours is an essential part. Once the baal-loon goes up, we will have free communications, but until then you will be our only contact with the Republic of Real People.” He blinked at Becker. “Mr. Lange says his people prepare for war, but they do not even know if his mission to contact us was successful. You must assure them it was, and we will fight by their side.” Chack stopped walking and paused, staring back at the jungle. “I wish we could raise some regiments here, but these people . . .” He sighed. “They have regressed too far; they are too primitive.” He smiled wistfully. “I envy them that, you know? To them, the Grik are mythical monsters—and they would fight if asked—but I cannot condone it. They allow us here and that is help enough. We have not yet reached the point of arming younglings, not since Baalkpan, and recruiting these people to fight the war we have come to know would be no different, and more cruel than I can imagine.” He blinked sad determination and his tail swished emphatically. “Let us try to leave one bastion of innocence on this world.”

  Elizabeth Bay, the Enchanted Isles

  High Admiral Harvey Jenks was discussing the ramifications of General Shinya’s latest report on the situation at Guayak with Admiral Lelaa-Tal-Cleraan, Orrin Reddy, and Surgeon Commander Selass-Fris-Ar. An urgent knock on the ornate wooden door to Maaka-Kakja’s admiral’s stateroom suddenly interrupted them.

  “Excuse me, High Ahd-mi-raal,” Lelaa said, then raised her voice. “Enter.”

  A Marine sentry opened the door and stepped inside, escorting two amazingly bedraggled forms, wearing ragged remnants of Dom uniforms! One was human, and they immediately suspected a prisoner or spy, but the other was Lemurian—and Lelaa could only stare as realization dawned. Both visitors managed sharp salutes and Lelaa’s suspicions were confirmed when the human spoke. “Lieutenant Fred Reynolds and Ensign Kari-Faask, Special Air Division, USS Walker, DD-163, reporting!” The young man’s voice was firm, but there were tears in his eyes.

  “My God!” proclaimed Jenks. “I remember you two! You were Walker’s pilots who went missing near Monterrey! How in God’s name did you survive—and wind up here!”

  “It’s a long story, Commodore,” Fred said, using the rank he remembered. “We were captured by Doms, but escaped”—he paused, considering—“a few weeks ago?” He looked at Kari as if for confirmation, but Kari could only stare at Lelaa and the spotless tablecloth between them. “The short version,” Fred continued, “is that we swiped a fishing boat and made our way southwest until a Nancy spotted us and sent a seaplane tender-frigate to check us out. That’s a great idea, by the way. Anyhow, they flew us here in two Nancys, and here we are.”

  “You should be in sick bay!” Selass exclaimed.

  “They should have at least allowed you to freshen up!” Jenks agreed, annoyed.

  “No, sir. We had to see you right away. We were afraid we’d be too late.”

  “Too late for what?” Jenks demanded.

  “Too late to warn you, sir. We met some interesting folks and learned a lot of weird stuff—but we also picked up an awful lot of intel on the Doms. I guess that’s why they chased us so hard.” He glanced at Kari and took a breath. “But a bunch of what we found out, well, you’re not going to like at all.”

  SPECIFICATIONS

  American-Lemurian Ships and Equipment

  USS Walker (DD-163)—(Initially under repair in Maa-ni-la). Wickes (Little) Class four-stack, or flush-deck, destroyer. Twin screw, steam turbines, 1,200 tons, 314' x 30'. Top speed (as designed): 35 knots. 112 officers and enlisted (current) including Lemurians (L). Armament: Main—3 x 4"-50 + 1 x 4.7" dual purpose. Secondary—4 x 25mm Type-96 AA, 4 x.50cal MG, 2 x.30 cal MG. 40-60 Mk-6 (or equivalent) depth charges for 2 stern racks, and 2 Y guns (with adapters). Proposed upgrades: Replacement of 4.7" dual purpose with 4"-50 dp, reinstallation of numbers one and two 21" triple-tube torpedo mounts, installation of impulse-activated catapult for PB-1B scout seaplane.

  USS Mahan, (DD-102)—(Initially completing reconstruction at Baalkpan). Wickes Class four-stack, or flush-deck, destroyer. Twin screw, steam turbines. 960 tons, 264' x 30' (as rebuilt). Top speed estimated at about 25 knots. Rebuild has resulted in shortening, and removal of 2 funnels and 2 boilers. Otherwise, her armament and upgrades are the same as USS Walker.

  USS Santa Catalina (CA-P-1)—(Protected cruiser). Formerly general cargo. 8,000 tons, 420' x 53', triple-expansion steam, oil fired, 10 knots (as reconstructed). Retains significant cargo/troop capacity, and has a seaplane catapult with recovery booms aft. 240 officers and enlisted. Armament: 4 x 5.5" mounted in armored casemate. 2 x 4.7" DP in armored tubs. 1 x 10" breech-loading rifle (20' length) mounted on spring-assisted pneumatic recoil pivot.

  S-19—Former S Class submarine, rebuilt as a long-range MTB. 220' x 22', 780 tons. Twin 8-cylinder NELSECO direct-drive diesels, about 18 knots. Armament: 4 x 21" torpedo tubes (forward), 1 x 4"-50, 1 x 3"-23.

  Carriers

  USNRS (US Navy Reserve Ship) Salissa “Big Sal” (CV-1)—Aircraft carrier/tender, converted from seagoing Lemurian Home. Single screw, triple expansion steam, 13,000 tons, 1,009' x 200'. Armament: 2 x 5.5", 2 x 4.7" DP, 4 x twin-mount 25mm AA, 20 x 50 pdrs (as reduced), 50 aircraft.

  USNRS Arracca (CV-3 )—Aircraft carrier/tender converted from seagoing Lemurian Home. Single screw, triple expansion steam, 14,670 tons, 1,009' x 210'. Armament: 2 x 4.7" DP, 50 x 50 pdrs. 50 aircraft.

  USS Maaka-Kakja (CV-4)—(Purpose-built aircraft carrier/tender). Specifications are similar to Arracca, but is capable of carrying upwards of 80 aircraft—with some stowed in crates.

  USS Baalkpan Bay (CV-5)—(Purpose-built aircraft carrier/tender). First of a new class of smaller (850' x 150', 9,000 tons), faster (up to 15 knots), lightly armed (4 x Baalkpan Arsenal 4"-50 DP guns—2 amidships, 1 each forward and aft) fleet carriers that can carry as many aircraft as Maaka-Kakja.

  “Small Boys”

  Frigates (DDs):

  USS Donaghey (DD-2)—Square rig sail only, 1,200 tons, 168' x 33' 200 officers and enlisted. Sole survivor of first new construction. Armament: 24 x 18 pdrs, Y gun and depth charges.

  *Dowden Class—Square rig steamer, 1,500 tons, 12–15 knots, 185' x 34', 20 x 32 pdrs, Y gun and depth charges, 218 officers and enlisted. **Haakar-Faask Class—Square rig steamer, 15 knots, 1,600 tons, 200' x 36', 20 x 32 pdrs, Y gun and depth charges, 226 officers and enlisted. ***Scott Class—Square rig steamer, 17 knots, 1,800 tons, 210' x 40', 20 x 50 pdrs, Y gun and depth charges, 260 officers and enlisted.

  Corvettes (DEs): Captured Grik “Indiamen,” primarily of the earlier (lighter) design. Razed to the gundeck, these are swift, agile, dedicated sailors with three masts and a square rig. 120–160' x 30–36', about 900 tons (tonnage varies depending largely on armament, which also varies from 10 to 24 guns that range in weight and bore diameter from 12–18 pdrs). Y gun and depth charges.

  Auxiliaries: Still largely composed of purpose-altered Grik “Indiamen,” small and large, and used as transports, oilers, tenders, and general cargo. A growing number of steam auxiliaries have joined the fleet, with dimensions and appearance similar to Dowden and Haakar-Faask Class DDs, but with lighter armament. Some fast clipper-shaped vessels are employed as long-range oilers. Fore and aft rigged feluccas remain in service as fast transports and scouts. Respite Island Class SPDs (self-propelled dry dock) are designed along similar lines to the new, purpose-built carriers—inspired by the massive seagoing Lemurian Homes. They are intended as rapid deployment, heavy-lift dry docks and for bulky transport.

  USNRS—Salaama-Na Home—(Unaltered—other than by emplacement of 50
x 50 pdrs). 1,014' x 150', 8,600 tons. 3 tripod masts support semirigid “junklike” sails or “wings.” Top speed about 6 knots, but capable of short sprints up to 10 knots using 100 long sweeps. In addition to living space in the hull, there are 3 tall pagodalike structures within the tripods that cumulatively accommodate up to 6,000 people. Commodore (High Chief) Sor-Lomaak (L)—Commanding.

  Woor-Na Home—Lightly armed (ten 32 pdrs) heavy transport, specifications as above.

  Fristar Home—Nominally, if reluctantly, Allied Home. Same basic specifications as Salaama-Na—as are all seagoing Lemurian Homes—but mounts only ten 32 pdrs.

  Aircraft: P-40E Warhawk—AllisonV1710, V12, 1,150 hp. Max speed 360 mph, ceiling 29,000 ft. Crew: 1. Armament: up to 6 x.50-cal Browning machine guns, and up to 1,000-lb bomb. PB-1B “Nancy”—W/G type, in-line 4 cyl, 150 hp. Max speed 110 mph, max weight 1,900 lbs. Crew: 2. Armament: 400-lb bombs. PB-2 “Buzzard”—3 x W/G type, in-line 4 cyl, 150 hp. Max speed 80 mph, max weight 3,000 lbs. Crew: 2, and up to 6 passengers. Armament: 600-lb bombs. PB-5 “Clipper”—4 x W/G type, in-line 4 cyl, 150 hp. Max speed 90 mph, max weight 4,800 lbs. Crew: 3, and up to 8 passengers. Armament: 1,500-lb bombs. PB-5B—As above, but powered by 4 x MB 5 cyl, 254-hp radials. Max speed 125 mph, max weight 6,200 lbs. Crew: 3, and up to 10 passengers. Armament: 2,000-lb bombs. P-1 Mosquito Hawk, or “Fleashooter”—MB 5-cyl radial, 254 hp. Max speed 220 mph, max weight 1,220 lbs. Crew: 1. Armament: 2 x.45-cal Blitzer Bug machine guns. P-1B—As above, but configured for carrier ops.

  Field Artillery: 6 pdr on split-trail “galloper” carriage—effective to about 1,500 yds, or 300 yds w/canister. 12 pdr on stock-trail carriage—effective to about 1,800 yds, or 300 yds w/ canister. 3" mortar—effective to about 800 yds. 4" mortar—effective to about 1,500 yds.