Crusade d-2

by Тейлор Андерсон

  Ed nodded again, and standing as straight as he dared on the swooping wing, he braced to attention and threw Rick Tolson the best salute he knew how. With that, he turned and made his way carefully back to the space between the engines. Mallory throttled back so as not to blow him into the sea, and Palmer dropped down into the pilot’s compartment and disappeared.

  Calmly, Captain Tolson, commander of Revenge, turned to Kas-Ra-Ar. «Clear for action!» he said, the grin still on his face. «Boy, I get such a kick out of saying that!»

  «That’s it? Six?» Mallory demanded. Ed nodded without a word. «Shit!» shouted Ben in frustration. «Now I know what the captain meant when he asked me what I’d do!» Ed had no idea what he was talking about, but given the context of the situation, he could make a pretty good guess. «All right,» Mallory said at last. «Strap in. As soon as we’re airborne, try to raise Walker again. You have ten minutes. Then I want you on the nose gun. Tell those ’Cats in the waist to get ready too.» He fiddled with the throttles as he turned the plane into the wind. «Maybe if we strafe ’em a few times we’ll scare ’em off,» he added doubtfully.

  The engines roared and the hull pounded and thundered beneath their feet as the plane tried to increase speed, but instead it just seemed to wallow through the choppy swells.

  «C’mon! C’mon!» Mallory shouted, and slammed the throttles to their stops.

  «What’s the matter?» Palmer shouted from behind him. Tikker sat, perfectly still, both eyes clenched shut.

  «Oh, ah, nothing, Ed. It’s just a little rougher than I’m used to!» His voice was vibrating sympathetically with the airplane.

  «I’m gonna be sick!» Palmer moaned when the plane pitched nose-first into a larger wave that seemed to arrest all forward motion. «Air-sick and seasick all at once!»

  Surprisned by the staccato bursts of one.30- and two.50-caliber machine guns. The firing in the waist was accompanied by high-pitched squeals of delight. The airframe vibrated more than usual with the recoil of the guns and Ben continued his tight-banking turn to keep his indicated targets in range. Geysers of water marched from ship to ship and then disappeared when the bullets struck wood. Tightly packed Grik warriors were slaughtered in droves.

  «Let ’em have it!» Ben screamed. Revenge vanished behind another cloud of smoke and this time the foremast of one of the closest ships tottered into the sea. Dragged around by the trailing debris, the ship veered sharply to port and speared into another Grik ship sailing directly alongside. Others slammed into the entangled wrecks from behind and it looked to Ben like a giant chain-reaction pileup on the highway.

  «Hell, yes! Outstanding!» he shouted as still more ships added to the catastrophe.

  «What are those ones doing?» Tikker asked, pointing. Ben looked. Several ships had broken from the pack and were trying to cut Revenge off. If they crossed her bow, the ship’s guns wouldn’t bear and they’d be free to grapple. Once that happened, it would be all over but the dying.

  «New targets!» yelled Ben. «Engage the ships out front! One of them looks different. bigger! And the hull’s white and gold — not red. I bet it’s special somehow. Give it an extra dose!» The nose gun and the port.50 stitched the sea around the unusual ship. Splinters and debris erupted and bodies fell, while others tried to surge away from the impacts. A few even fell into the sea.

  «I’m empty!» came a frustrated, keening shriek from aft. So much for controlled bursts. Ben stomped on the right rudder pedal and banked the opposite direction, allowing the starboard gunner a chance.

  «Make ’em count!» he snarled. The plane rattled as the other gun resumed fire. Down below, Revenge was wreathed in smoke. Bright jets of flame stabbed out at irregular intervals. Several enemy ships were almost upon her and they were being systematically dismantled. Masts crowded with struggling forms fell into the sea and at least one of the enemy was dead in the water, its shattered bow dipping low. So far, none of the enemy had employed their «Grik Fire,» however. They seemed intent on coming to grips with Revenge, whatever the cost.

  «They want her in one piece,» Ben surmised aloud. There was nothing he could do about it. Ed’s gun had fallen silent in the nose. The PBY wasn’t carrying much ammunition — it was never imagined that it would need more than would be necessary to keep a threat at bay while it took off. Much like what had happened right after they discovered it. Now, even as the starboard waist gun continued to stutter, grappling hooks arced through the air, trailing their lines behind them like hundreds of spiders casting their webs.

  «Damn it!» Ben exclaimed. His voice cracked. «They want her guns!»

  Ed reappeared at his shoulder. «Rick won’t let them take her,» he said with sad, quiet certainty. Even as they circled, watching with sick fascination, more and more enemy vessels crowded forward like ants upon a stricken comrade. Revenge had disappeared entirely within the forest of masts and the only way they could tell her position was by the proximity of the strange white ship and the hazy column of smoke that still rose from the center of the mass. The final waist gun was silent now, but still Ben orbited above. On the d billowing cloud of smoke. Masts toppled outward from the blast like trees on the slope of a volcano and fiery debris rocketed into the sky. The plane was buffeted by the shock wave of the explosion and Ben fought the wheel to regain control. He quickly banked again to see the results through his suddenly unfocused eyes. Eight or ten ships had been in close contact with Revenge when she blew herself up. Two were just gone, and three more were smoldering wrecks. Vigorous fires had taken hold on several more and the smoke added to the vast pall now drifting down wind. Of Revenge and the white ship that had been beside her, there was no sign.

  «That’s the style,» muttered Ben. His voice was almost a sob. He gently eased back on the controls and the Catalina began to gain altitude.

  «Are we leaving now?» Ed asked.

  «I guess,» Ben replied. «I just couldn’t before. Not while there was anybody down there who could see us.» Ed nodded understanding. «Besides, the captain. everyone will want to know how it ended.» He sighed. «One more thing, too. I want to get a solid count of how many ships they have. We’re still the ‘eyes’ of the fleet.»

  At three thousand feet, Ben circled again while the others counted the enemy.

  «Jesus, there’s a lot of them. I’ve lost count twice,» Ed said.

  «It doesn’t have to be perfect. What do you have, Tikker?»

  «Three hundred ten, but that’s not all I see, that’s all I can count. There’s more on the horizon.» Tikker squinted again. «There’s that Vol-caanno still.» He shook his head. «It looks closer now.»

  For the first time, Ben really looked to the north where Tikker had spotted the smoke. Sure enough, a solid black column was slanting away to the east. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. «What the.?» He leveled out and pointed the Catalina north, toward the distant smudge.

  «What is it?» asked Ed.

  «I dunno. It looks like. but that’s impossible.» Frozen mercury poured down his back.

  «It is!» Ed exclaimed excitedly. He was looking through the binoculars now. «It’s a ship! A modern ship! Burning coal, by the look of her. That’s why all the black smoke.» He hesitated and his face assumed a troubled expression. «But what the hell is she doing running around with a bunch of lizards? Look, they’re all around her!»

  «Maybe they captured her? She had to have gotten here the same way we did. Hell, they nearly got us, remember?»

  Ed was still staring intently through the glasses. «Jeez, that’s not just any ship, it’s a warship! She looks bigger than the goddamn Arizona!»

  The icy mercury running down Ben’s back was suddenly joined in his stomach by molten lead. «Give me those!» he said, snatching the glasses away. «Tikker, take the controls!»

  The Lemurian stared, wide-eyed, at the wheel in front of him and then grasped it in both of his clawed hands. The tone in Ben’s voice told him that any fooling around wouldn’t be acceptable. He clenc
hed his teeth and held the wheel as tight and steady as he could. Ben adjusted the objective until the image became crystal clear. His subconscious mind screamed in protest and he almost dropped the binoculars. Even at twelve or fifteen miles the silhouette was un maintained contact for quite a while as it flew ever farther north. Then, all of a sudden, there was nothing. Just some weird static. It wasn’t coming from his end, he was sure, and he doubted that Ed had done anything on his end to cause it. Ed could be a screwball, but he was a pretty good hand with a radio and besides, with the skipper on the warpath, he knew better than to goof around.

  A hazy tendril of concern began to creep into Clancy’s thoughts. Steve Riggs was in Baalkpan working on a system of communications for the defenses there. With him and Palmer both gone, Clancy would be the communications department. Of course, without the radio on the plane, there wouldn’t be much need for one. All in all, it had been a pretty nerve-racking day.

  «C’mon, Ed,» he muttered. «Talk to me.»

  Suddenly enough to startle him with the irony, he thought he detected something buried in the static. He put his earphones on and began adjusting knobs. There! The unmistakable «beep beeping» began to emerge. Instead of voice, the signal was coming in CW, or Morse code. He snatched up a pencil and began to transcribe the letters as they came.

  ZSA ZSA ZSA. (Can you receive?) Over and over again. Clancy quickly tapped back a reply.

  ZSB-2. (I can receive. Readability fair.)

  ZOE-5-O-J. (I am going to transmit in strings of five-urgent-verify and repeat.)

  For an instant Clancy just stared at his key. «What the hell?» he muttered. They’d been transmitting in the clear for so long it didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Ed want to use five-letter code groups?

  ZOE-5-O-J, he finally tapped back.

  It wouldn’t be long now. The bright passion of Matt’s rage had ebbed somewhat as the day progressed, and that was probably for the best, he realized. The endless delays of preparing an army for battle had stretched into the midafternoon, and at times he found himself wondering if he really should have waited for the rest of the force to join them. Keje’s and even Shinya’s estimate of the time it would take to get ready had been overly optimistic. Intellectually, he knew the wait was a small price to pay. Not only would the larger force face less difficulty and take fewer casualties when it stormed the city, but now that it was decided, he believed even more strongly that it was important they all go in together.

  The various members of the Allied Expeditionary Force had to learn here and now that they couldn’t pick and choose which battles were convenient for them to fight. They were all in this together and if they were going to win this war, they had to share the burden equally.

  That didn’t mean he felt any less frustrated over the delays. Lord Rolak’s force and the Marines still constituted the point of the spear, but Queen Maraan’s had been pulled back in reserve and replaced by the Third and Fifth Guards. That’s what took the most time. It was believed — probably correctly — that the defenders would fight harder if they knew they were facing their ancestral enemies from across the bay. Matt’s destroyermen had been redeployed as well — much to their disgust. They’d still go in with the «first wave» but more as heavy-weapons support platoons than front-line shock troops. Their job would be to shoot archers and commanders with the Springfields and Krags and break up enemy concentrations with the Thompsons and BARs. Either way, they’d be in the thick of the fighting, Matt knew, and they’d use an awful lot of ammunition.e once more join those who fought and hear their deeds in person!»

  A great roar went up and, Safir, her eyes still shining, turned to Matt while Chack translated what she said. All Matt could do was shake his head and wonder. He wasn’t about to ask right then.

  «What about Aryaal?» she asked, the power gone from her voice. «And there are other cities — Kudraang, Kartaj, Bataava — farther up the coast.»

  «There’s nothing we can do for them,» Matt replied somberly.

  «There’s not enough time.» He glanced grimly at his watch again and then looked at Rolak. The old warrior was standing, shoulders bowed. He knew that just warning his people wouldn’t be enough. Rasik would not believe it and all of his people would stay and perish. He and his warriors couldn’t leave them to that, and all would die for nothing.

  «No time at all,» Matt repeated. «Under the circumstances, Queen Protector, I think your troops would be better employed evacuating B’mbaado immediately. Some of the embedded officers might want to remain, however. They might need the experience.»

  She nodded gratefully, but blinked surprise. Rolak and many others did the same.

  «The way I figure it, we have three hours to take Aryaal.»

  As expected, a last desperate appeal came to naught. Officially, at least. There was no response to the demand for surrender, but when the guns in the breastworks made ready to fire, the defenders on the walls just vanished. With no apparent opposition, the Second Marines and Rolak’s force, now called the First Aryaal, moved forward toward the gate. Matt, Keje, and even Adar fell in behind, and five-member squads of destroyermen interspersed themselves among the troops. Silva’s squad remained around its captain.

  «You believe this. nightmare ship truly exists? That it is coming?» Keje asked. «Perhaps your Mallory made a mistake?»

  «A mistake like that. wouldn’t be possible.»

  «You never told me there was another ship,» Adar said, matching their pace.

  «We didn’t know.»

  «Then where did it come from, this ship that has changed everything in an instant?»

  Matt sighed. «The same place we did. Through the Squall.»

  «But you know her?»

  Matt nodded. «You remember we once spoke of how Walker was damaged so badlyly from them? And the Japanese are as different from us as you are from the Aryaalans. Remember, we were at war with them before we came here.»

  «But»

  «We’ll have to pick it up later,» said Matt, hitching his belt as best he could and nodding forward.

  «Who was winning?» Adar asked quietly, but Matt didn’t answer. Ahead, as the first troops entered the city, the distinctive sound of battle reached them from within. Chack shouted something over the din, but what it was, at first, Matt had no idea. Other shouts echoed back, and when Matt and his companions finally passed through the arch, the cause of the confusion was plain. Battle raged in the courtyard and streets beyond, but as yet the Marines weren’t involved. Civil war had come once more to Aryaal.

  Word of the final ultimatum, complete with the warning of the Grik, had spread like wildfire throughout the city. It began among the defenders at the gate who fled from the guns. Officer after officer — Rasik’s handpicked — tried to stem the tide of desertion and many of them were slain. The palace guard tried to stop them too, but when real fighting began, many who were willing to defend the city joined the mutineers when they saw them being killed by the king’s personal troops. It was too much. Most were loyal to their city and their king, no matter who he was. That the loyalists had prevailed in the previous fighting was proof enough of that — even if the purges after the first rebellion had been excessive enough to fire indignation and doubt. But as word of the renewed Grik threat continued to spread, they began to realize that the patient invaders outside the walls weren’t the real enemy after all. They knew if it hadn’t been for the sea folk, the Grik would have had them already. They could never hold them off a second time. Suddenly, to most of the warriors of Aryaal, the survival of their families transcended nationalism and loyalty to a new king they didn’t even like.

  By the time Lord Rolak entered the city at the head of his column of native warriors, the uprising in the city — at least the northern half — was already practically over. Marines fanned out and created a perimeter inside the gate, but no one so much as threw a rock at them. Beyond the perimeter there was still fighting, but it flared in fits and spurts. It ha
d degenerated mostly into a grudge match now between the various Aryaalan political houses and the palace guard. None of the combatants from any side seemed to want the Marines to get involved. Lord Rolak paced to the great Fountain of the Sun in the center of the plaza and climbed the stepped circle that surrounded it for a better view. From amid the turmoil of fighting and the growing crowd of townsfolk, someone shouted a cheer at the sight of him. Then another. Within minutes, the dwindling sound of battle was overwhelmed by thunderous cheering that surged and echoed off the walls of the city and the royal palace beyond the plaza. Defenders threw down their weapons and many took up the cheer as well.

  Rolak was overcome. Matt mounted the steps beside him, grinning for the first time that day. The sound was overwhelming and it only seemed to build as more and more Aryaalans rushed from other parts of the city. The crowd surged, but the Marines kept them at bay. A phalanx of armed Aryaalans — not palace guards but still a well-turned-out force — made its way through the crowd until it reached the Marines’ shield wall. Shinya rushed to the point of contact with Chack by his side and after several moments of hand gestures and shouting, a single figure was let through the wall. Chack hurried to Matt and Rolak, with the individual puffing and almost running to keep up. His flowing embroidered robe threatened to trip him.

  «Lord Koratin,» Rolak of restrained greeting when the pair drew near. Chack automatically translated for Captain Reddy.

  «Lord Rolak,» Koratin replied, and bowed.

  «I understand you are chief advisor to that murdering coward who has stolen the throne,» Rolak said. «We were never friends, but I expected better of you.»

  «It is true, that was my position, my lord. And that is what I tried to do. But my advice wasn’t heeded, or even tolerated. The king is quite mad.»

  «The attempt to sink the iron ship?»