In the meantime, for the sake of the men, Matt and Sandra must control their passions. That didn’t mean Matt intended to ignore her excellent insight. He leaned over and whispered in her ear: «What do you think of that Anai-Sa?» he asked, referring to the High Chief of the Fristar Home. The black-furred Lemurian had arrived at the conference late, as usual, and now sat hunched on a cushion in sulky disdain while the rest of the attendees finished the refreshments that were a prerequisite to any council.
«I think he only volunteered so he could get the cannons that were promised to the Homes that take part in the campaign,» she whispered back. «I don’t trust him. Iiv>
Matt nodded. Anai-Sa had been the most outspoken proponent of just packing up and sailing off, but to possess the power of the guns was a mighty incentive to hypocrisy. «Do you have any less vague impressions about our other commanders?» he asked with heavy irony.
A quiet chuckle escaped her, but she nodded. «They seem pretty solid for the most part. You know you can count on Rick, on Revenge, and Keje, of course.» She paused, considering. «I really like Ramic-Sa-Ar of Aracca and Tassat-Ay-Aracca of Nerracca.»
«They’re father and son, aren’t they?» Matt asked, referring to the pair of Lemurians who sat close together talking animatedly among themselves. There was certainly a strong resemblance. The younger one seemed a virtual replica of the older.
«Yes,» she confirmed, «and Tassat is actually younger than Anai, even though you could hardly tell by the way they act.» She sniffed. «As far as Geran-Eras of Humfra-Dar, it’s hard to say.» She was referring to the only female High Chief present. «She’s been a vocal supporter of the expedition from the start,» Sandra continued. «You may even remember her showing rather. energetic approval of your plan?»
Matt did remember then, and cringed. Even Lemurian females had surprising upper body strength, and Geran-Eras had actually embraced him after he made his pitch for the relief of Surabaya. He was sure she’d almost cracked some ribs.
«I think, as your Mr. Silva would say, ‘she has more than one dog in this hunt.’ Adar told me her mate and one of her children were killed in a Grik attack right before they came to Baalkpan. Might’ve even been one of the ships we destroyed, so she really likes you. Also, I imagine she sees this expedition as a chance for revenge. You might need to keep an eye on her.»
Matt nodded soberly and glanced around. The refreshments had been consumed and Keje was looking at him expectantly. «Better get started,» he said to Sandra, and cleared his throat. «Ladies and gentlemen,» he began aloud. «We have a battle to plan.»
Standing on Walker’s bridge with his binoculars raised, Matt reflected that his return to Surabaya wasn’t altogether unlike his departure so long ago. Once again, the clouds above the distant city glowed and flickered with the reflected light of fires caused by an enemy bombardment. This time, the spectacle was all the more surreal. Walker’s blowers roared at a pitch consistent with her ten knots, but in spite of that, even at this distance, the loud whump and overpressure of Japanese bombs would have been felt and heard. Instead, only an eerie silence accompanied the distant battle. They’d opened the bay from the east at 0120 and picked their way carefully through the Sapudi Islands, which were scattered haphazardly there. The last time Matt traversed these waters, Walker had had the services of a fat Dutch pilot, and Matt wondered suddenly where the man was now. Had he even survived? He banished the thought. All Walker had this time was a waning crescent moon. Of course, this time there was no minefield either.
As they drew closer, they could discern the stern lanterns of dozens of Grik ships moored in the bay, close to the city. All were ablaze with light and all rode secure at their anchors, never suspecting any threat might descend from the sea. A few, closer in, kept up a continuous desultory bombardment with their catapults, flinging «Grik Fire». Usually, a red gout of flame mushroomed upward into the sky. The festive, brightly lit ships in the bay provided a stark contrast to the suffering inside the city beyond.
Matt carefully refocused the binoculars dead ahead, watching one Grik ship in particular. Alone among its identical sisters, this one was under plain sail, creeping slowly among its brethren on a light southerly wind. Apparently accepted without fanfare as yet another reinforcement, the ship with the unusual blue glass in its lanterns moved deep into the enemy formation. Matt marked its progress by that blue light that identified it as Revenge.
He stepped onto the bridgewing and glanced aft. The Homes were hanging in there, totally darkened, as was Walker. He could see the occasional flash of white water alongside them as the hundred mighty sweeps propelled each huge ship forward at close to the ten knots Walker was making. He marveled yet again at the strength and determination that took. Fristar was lagging behind the others, leaving a small but growing gap between her and Humfra-Dar, but otherwise his «battle line» was holding together. The shoal of feluccas brought up the rear. He stepped back into the pilothouse and resumed his post beside his chair.
The bridge watch was silent other than an occasional whispered command, and he felt a tension that was different from any he’d sensed since the battle of the Makassar Strait. Like that night, there was fear and tension, but there was also a certain. predatory eagerness. A realization that they’d caught their overwhelming enemy with his britches down, coupled with a determination to make him pay. General quarters had been sounded long ago, and all stations were manned and ready except the torpedo director. Sandison’s «torpedo project» to repair the two condemned torpedoes they’d filched from a warehouse in Surabaya was still on hold, and they wouldn’t be using any of the three «definites» tonight. Sandison and his torpedomen had filled out the crews of the numbers one and four guns.
Matt turned to Lieutenant Shinya, who was in quiet conversation with Courtney Bradford. «Assemble your riflemen amidships and hold them as a reserve for any point of contact if the enemy try to board,» Matt instructed. Virtually everyone topside had a rifle handy, but at their stations, the crew was too spread out to mass their small-arms fire. Shinya saluted him with a serious expression and turned to comply with the order. It would be the first time he’d commanded any of the destroyermen in action, and his self-consciousness was evident. He was directly in charge of close defense of the ship and had half a dozen Americans assigned to his reserve. Matt doubted there’d be any friction. Most of the destroyermen still didn’t like him, but his abilities were evident. Some had even begun to consider him just another part of Walker’s increasingly diverse extended family. They never would forgive the Japanese, but Shinya wasn’t just a Jap anymore. Besides, they were all on the same side now. It even seemed as though Dennis Silva kind of liked the former enemy lieutenant, and if Silva would put up with him, the rest of the crew certainly could.
«Be careful, Lieutenant,» Matt cautioned as Shinya departed the bridge.
«Not long now, I should think,» commented Bradford when they were alone. Matt nodded. He hadn’t really wanted the Australian on the bridge during the action. He would have preferred that Bradford stay in the wardroom with Sandra, but the man had practically insisted. Chief Gray had just as «practically» offered to force him to go below, but the captain allowed him to remain. It was probably better this way. In spite of his peculiar manner, Bradford ofn awe-inspiring. A number of ships continued burning furiously, and many more Grik were so involved in preventing their own ships from catching fire, they were unable to contribute to the fight. Matt knew Walker had savaged them and he had no idea how many Grik she’d sunk. The number of burning ships was surprising even so, and he realized some of them must have set fire to each other, flinging their bombs haphazardly in the midst of battle.
The battle line was almost through to them now, their massive guns spitting hate at the Ancient Enemy, blasting great gaping holes in hulls and smashing masts and bodies on any vessel that dared draw near. Some still did, regardless of damage, in the predictable Grik style. The very waters of the bay burned with Grik Fir
e as bomb after bomb exploded against the stout, scorched sides of the Homes or spilled their burning contents onto the sea. Any fires that were started on the great wooden fortresses were quickly extinguished, and very little had been left exposed that would burn. The decks were soaked before the battle and the huge fabric wings had been stowed, leaving only the massive sweep-oars for propulsion. One by one, the blackened and smoldering but otherwise unscathed leviathans crashed through the final obstacles separating them from Walker and Revenge and slowly took up positions lengthening the line with their port batteries bearing on the bay.
Even then they continued to fire, without nearly as great an effect at the increased range, but with just as much determination. The surviving Grik that could began to flee. At least half the enemy’s fleet of forty ships had been destroyed, and most of those remaining afloat were damaged to varying degrees. Matt was tempted to allow Walker’s main battery to continue firing, but he knew he had to conserve ammunition. This was but the opening stroke, and he inwardly cringed at his expectation of what they had expended.
«Cease firing,» he said, but the guns had already fallen silent, probably at Garrett’s command. After the noise and turmoil of battle, his voice sounded strange. disassociated. He glanced at his watch and experienced the usual sense of disorientation when he realized the seemingly hours-long battle had lasted less than forty minutes. The rest of the fleet’s cannonade became more desultory as the remaining targets drew away, and a great tide of cheering voices from thousands of throats rose and washed over him.
Larry Dowden appeared at his side. He’d been at his battle station on the aft deckhouse and was black with soot and sweat from the fire that came too close. He stood with Matt and stared at the scene of destruction as the roar of exultation continued. «Even better than Balikpapan. in the old war,» he finally managed. His voice held a trace of wonder. Matt nodded. The enormity of the victory was beginning to sink in. «This even feels better,» Dowden continued. «God knows I hate the Japs. except Shinya, I guess, but he’s the proof. At least Japs are people. This feels more like. killing snakes.»
«What is it, Mr. Garrett?»
«Listen, sir,» he said, almost shouting, and pointed at the city. Matt turned back toward shore and strained his ears to hear over the cheering. He couldn’t imagine what it was that Garrett wanted him to hear over — then it hit him. The cheering of the fleet wasn’t just echoing off the walls of the city, it was being answered from within! Even at this distance, and in the dark, he saw hundreds of figures standing on the walls, waving banners and weapons in triumph and shouting their defiance to the massive Grik army encamped outside their walls. From that army there came only a shocked, sullen silence.
Matt clasped his hands behind his back and strained to keep his relief in check. Underlying all the concerns he’d felt over the meeting with the Grik had been not knowing how the people here would receive them. They’d still have to guard against friction, but for now. «It seems the Aryaalans are glad to see us after all, wouldn’t you say, Mr.
Dowden?» His statement was met with a few hopeful chuckles.
«Captain!» cried the talker, who’d come as close as his cord would allow. «Lookout says there’s a small boat coming up to starboard!»
Matt heard the bolt rack back on the.30-cal above his head. «Hold your fire!» he shouted, looking up. «Mr. Garrett, inform all stations to hold fire!» He turned and peered into the darkness that lay between them and the shore. The blazing wrecks threw a lot of light on the fleet and the fortress, but the space between them was in shadow, cast by the battle line. Even so, he saw what looked like a barge approaching from landward. It was about thirty feet long and broad in the beam. There were six banks of oars on each side and they rose and dipped with admirable precision. «Get Chack up here, on the double,» he said, glancing forward. In less than twenty seconds, Chack and Chief Gray were both beside him. Matt was looking through his binoculars and when he noticed their arrival, he handed the glasses to Chack. «What do you make of them?» Chack looked through the binoculars, mainly because he liked to. He didn’t really need them to see who was approaching.
«Aryaalans, Captain,» he said simply. Then he looked at Matt, inscrutable and expressionless as always, but he was blinking a sequence reserved for surprise. Intense surprise. «And others.»
Matt had started to turn and issue an order, but stopped and looked back at Chack. «What do you.? Just a moment.» He did turn then. «Signal the fleet ‘Well done’ and compliments. Also, all battle line captains please report aboard Walker. They can send a representative if they have damage or other pressing concerns.» His gaze returned to Chack. «What were you saying?»
Chack wordlessly handed the binoculars back. Slightly annoyed, Matt raised them once more. The boat was much closer now, and even as he looked, he heard several exclamations of surprise from some of those crowding with him on the bridgewing.
The first thing he noticed was the Aryaalans themselves. He was struck by how different they appeared from the Lemurians he was used to. Counting the rowers, there were sixteen or seventeen of them on the barge, and almost all of them had dark-colored pelts. It was impossible in the dim light to tell exactly what color they were, but he had an impression of sable. That was unusual enough, since no two Lemurians he’d met were precisely the same color. And yet the differences didn’t end there. The People they’d grown accustomed to — Spanky’s efforts notwithstanding — wore as lians he re of Mahan’s tale. Judging by the appearance of Ellis and Steele, it had been a hard one. Both men’s uniforms were badly stained and battered, and a dreadful experience of some sort seemed to haunt their eyes. Jim still limped too, and Matt remembered that Captain Kaufman had shot his friend. He returned his attention to Lord Rolak, who was speaking.
«They will certainly attack at dawn.» Keje translated for him. «They attack most days, but after tonight.» He shrugged in a very human way. «They will certainly come and I doubt they will stop this time. I propose that your» — the Aryaalan lord actually sneered slightly» warriors join ours in the defensive positions. They should take direction from our captains, of course.»
Matt suddenly found all of his commanders’ eyes on him as Keje told him what Lord Rolak had said. He answered their unspoken question with a single word.
«No.»
For just a moment, after Keje relayed the response, there was an uncomfortable silence. Prince Rasik finally spoke up. «This. creature speaks for you all?»
Keje grunted and answered in an ominous tone. «He does. He not only speaks for us, he commands us for the duration of this campaign.» He gestured angrily toward the porthole. «In case you did not notice, we swept your little bay clear for you this night. He was the architect of that.»
Lord Rolak shifted, and visibly regrouped his argument. «Your victory tonight was impressive,» he hedged, «but you are sea folk. Surely you see the wisdom of letting land folk lead when a fight is on land. Aryaalans are a warrior race. The warrior’s way is bred into us and nurtured in us as younglings. You sea folk do not even fight unless you have to! We have the experience.!»
«It seems to me that you were about to experience defeat, Lord Rolak,» Bradford interrupted quietly. «What is your estimate of the forces arrayed against you?»
Rolak was quiet for a moment as he looked around the table. Finally he sighed. «There are, perhaps, fifteen thousands of the enemy.» Matt nodded when the translation came. That was consistent with Mallory’s estimate of the enemy force.
«How many warriors do you have to face them?» Matt brutally cut to the heart of the matter. If the Grik truly were going to attack at dawn, there was no time for this foolishness. Rolak answered him in a slightly more subdued tone.
«King Alcas has twenty-four hundred warriors in the city, fit for battle. Queen Maraan from B’mbaado Island across the water has sent another six hundreds to our aid.»
«She should have sent more!» seethed the young prince, speaking for the second t
ime since his introduction.
Rolak looked at him. «We are lucky she sent anything at all! Do you forget we were at war with her before the Grik came?» Rolak shrugged again and glanced at the others around the table. «War is a. pastime. among my people. That is why we are so good at it.» He paused and his tone subtly changed. «It is different this time. The Grik do not follow the rules. They do not have rules. No truce is accepted. There is no parley, no discussion of aims or demands, and. no respect for the dead.» His tail swished and he blinked outrage. «They eat fallen warriors, you know, whenever we cannot recover them. Sometimes they even stop fighting long enough to feed…» Quickly controlling himself, ize="3» >«Most are accounted for, but some are not. I fear we must assume they were lost breaking through the Grik.»
Matt nodded somberly, looking at Rick Tolson. «Revenge will make a quick search after dawn to see if any are adrift, disabled.»
«Aye, aye, Captain.»
«Don’t take too long, though. I want you back as soon as possible.» Tolson nodded. «Mr. Shinya, you will land three-quarters of the Marines and Guards at the dockyard. I’ll leave the choice of units to you, but I want you to reserve one-quarter of the force to demonstrate as if they’re going to land here» — he pointed at the map" across the river. Hopefully, we can keep the Grik reserves tied down, prepared to defend against a landing. The battle line will support that impression with a bombardment.» He paused. «The main force will assemble at the breastworks that join the castle walls to the beach.»
Most of those present were already familiar with the plan, but Lord Rolak leaned forward and peered at the map. «Why gather there?» he asked, puzzled. «It will take time to move your forces within the walls and through the city. Would it not be better to send them in as they arrive?»
«No, Lord Rolak,» Matt explained. «The Allied Expeditionary Force won’t be going inside.»
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