Iron Gray Sea d-7

by Taylor Anderson

  Perry Brister, still silent, advanced and extended his hand. Hesitantly, the Australian took it.

  “You’ve got quite a collection here, Commander Herring,” Letts said. “All with the same… reluctant views?”

  Herring frowned. “Let me explain. It’s not our intention to cause trouble or disrupt your operation here, but you must understand our situation… our concerns. Those of us who were in the Philippines were ordered to surrender, and we were treated like animals by our captors. Lieutenant Diebel and Mr. Stokes may have had it even worse, but I can only speak to our own ordeal. The misery and despair Horn, Miles, and I witnessed and endured is hard to describe. Discipline broke down completely and men no longer obeyed their officers. It was dog-eat-dog. Sadly, many officers abandoned their responsibility to their men as a result, and the Japs encouraged that state of affairs to make the men easier to handle, I suppose. Ultimately, men just sat there and watched each other die.” Real, almost physical pain clouded Herring’s eyes. “And all that was long before they stuffed us in that damn ship, where we met these other fellows”-he gestured at the Australian and the Dutchman-“already aboard. The enemy was taking us to die in the coal mines of Japan.”

  “But you were an officer,” Alan said softly. “What did you do?

  “Very little, I’m sad to admit,” Herring confessed, then hesitated. “You see, as far as the Japs knew, I wasn’t an officer, and my Marine friends here helped me maintain that fiction.”

  “But… why?”

  “Not that it matters here… now. I’m-was in-ONI. The Office of Naval Intelligence.” Herring replied.

  “Sometimes he tried to do stuff,” Gunnery Sergeant Horn defended, his voice surprisingly clear and firm, considering his appearance. “We all did what we could, and things got a little better as time went on, from a discipline standpoint. But we couldn’t let the Japs know Herring was an officer.”

  Letts looked back at Herring and the man nodded.

  “I had connections to the Kuomintang, and I was trying to establish the same with Philippine resistance leaders when the surrender took place. We tried to get out, but we were caught. To preserve the identities of people I was in contact with, we decided I should masquerade as an enlisted man.” Herring straightened. “To the Japs, all enlisted men are peasants, Mr. Letts, and therefore incapable of producing any useful information if questioned.”

  “I… see.”

  “In any event, that was then. Perhaps you can understand why we are hesitant to place ourselves under what seems to be a very… irregularly constituted authority. I’m given to understand we won’t be forced to serve, and that gives us some relief, but the fact is I am a Naval Officer, and the most senior present on this… world, by legal reckoning. That leaves me feeling somewhat awkward, and I have a responsibility to these men who have helped me. We won’t simply jump aboard this… odd alliance without further understanding the situation.”

  “I can understand that, Commander, and respect it. But why didn’t you just talk to Saan-Kakja in Manila? She’s a swell dame, and smart as a whip. She could’ve sorted it out for you.”

  “I’m… not sure the, ah, authorities in Manila fully understood that I needed to speak with the senior Naval Officer,” Herring said stiffly.

  “That’s Captain Reddy,” Letts stated firmly, “and he won’t be here for some time. In fact, you were closer to him in Maa-ni-la.”

  “That was explained, but…”

  “He means he-all of us-wanted to talk to people,” Corporal Miles interrupted sullenly, and Herring glared at him. “There weren’t any in Manila besides us and the other survivors of that damn Maru… well, and a bunch of half-naked broads out of the East someplace.”

  “Miles!” Gunny Horn snarled, seeing the faces of their hosts redden.

  “Well, it’s true!”

  “That’s enough, Corporal!” Herring said, but looked at Letts. “I apologize for the unseemly interruption, but Corporal Miles has voiced a point that still needs clarification. I’ve heard of this Lieutenant Commander Reddy and what he’s done. What all of you have accomplished is impressive, to say the least. But before I submit myself and these others to the authority of a man who is actually junior to me, I need to know just exactly who is in charge here.” Herring stated.

  “Let me tell you something, Commander-” Ben Mallory began.

  “Wait a minute, Colonel,” Letts said, stressing Ben’s new rank like he hadn’t done for his own. “Remember how we felt when we first met the Lemurians? It took us a while to figure things out.” He looked hard at Herring. “But that’s because we didn’t have anyone to tell us that ’ Cats are people. Well, I’m telling you now, Commander, and don’t ever forget it! They may look strange until you get used to them, but we look just as weird to them.”

  The Dutchman stirred. “But you have placed them in positions of authority! Even your ‘supreme commander,’ your Captain Reddy, follows their orders! This seems like on our world, you obey the Javanese or… Chinese coolies, yes?”

  For just a moment, Letts was stunned. It had been so long since something as ridiculous as race had occurred to anyone that it caught him completely by surprise. He knew there were similar issues in the east, that Second Fleet had faced some Imperial bigotry, but from what he understood that was more cultural than racial and the Alliance had largely settled that by saving the Empire’s ass.

  Ben appeared ready to explode, but Alan cut him off when he spoke in a wintry tone. “Have you seen a Grik, Lieutenant Diebel? We’ve managed to secure a small number of captive specimens. A couple are practically tame now, and we’ve finally begun to communicate with them and learn something about them. Most are still kind of wild though, and you ought to go down to the holding pens and have a good, long look. After you get a dose of their claws and teeth and… overall terrifying lethality, remember this: Really wild Grik can’t be taken alive. Only after they’ve been separated from the pack for a while do they seem to get a notion that they’d rather live than die killing you.

  “After that, try to imagine hundreds of thousands of them armed with swords, spears, arrows, cannon, and firearms of a sort now too, all coming not just to conquer your territory but to wipe you out! These Lemurians you seem to feel so superior to stopped them and have started to roll them back.” Alan shrugged. “We helped. Maybe we helped a lot. But we couldn’t have done it without them.” He grunted. “Hell, ask the Imperial rebels or Doms in the East how ’Cats stack up against humans in combat!”

  “I think you misunderstand,” Herring said with a warning glance at Diebel. “I’m sure your Lemurians are fine folk, but it has been disconcerting to see them, their Naval personnel in particular, parading around in a semblance of our Navy’s uniform, flying the American flag from their ships, and, indeed, considering themselves to be Americans! That’s odd enough. But then to find this… ‘American’… force subject to the command of… foreign… leaders!”

  “Oh, I get it,” Brister suddenly interrupted, speaking for the first time, his rough voice even harsher than usual. “You’re wondering why we didn’t just take over and how come we don’t treat the ’Cats like some people treated colored folks back home. Well, if any of us ever thought that way, we don’t anymore. Navy ’Cats are Americans, far as I’m concerned. They’ve taken the same oath you did, and they mean it. Captain Reddy could have taken over, I guess, and made himself king. From what I heard, they practically asked him to. But these people are our friends, Commander, and even if the Skipper had wanted to be king, he knew the Alliance would never hold up and Baalkpan would still be all alone against the Grik. As for being under the command of “foreign leaders,” well, we are and we aren’t. It’s complicated.” He shrugged, then glared at the Dutch flyer. “But even if we were bound to follow their every whim-which we’re not-I guess us Asiatic Fleet guys were already used to that back home, after Tommy Hart got the shove…”

  “You were treated rough by the Japs, Commander,” interru
pted Letts more softly, before Perry could make an enemy of Conrad Diebel. “And you’ve wound up in a situation you don’t understand. You’re being careful and trying to watch out for these other guys. I get that. But in a way, we’re still fighting the same war here that we left behind. Sure, we’ve got a few good Japs on our side, and Shinya, at least, is a swell guy. Another Jap named Okada took the ship that brought you here up against the tin can that was with her.” He lowered his voice and looked around. “That’s the last we heard. Chances are, he’s dead now and that ship’s on the bottom of the sea, but he was on our side, fighting bad Japs. And most of the Japs that made it here have wound up with the Grik-and the Grik are much worse than Japs!

  “The Grik keep people… Lemurians, anybody they catch, I guess, in the holds of their ships as rations. I’ve seen that, the aftermath, so I can kind of imagine what it looked like in the hold of Mizuki Maru. That said, I can only guess what it was like to be a prisoner of the Japs. I’m sure it was hell, sir, and the Japs who put you there belong in hell. With all due respect, though, Commander, you can’t have any idea what it was like for us when we first wound up here, all alone and practically sinking.” He gestured around. “It seems like we’ve done pretty well for ourselves, and I guess we have, but at first it was only us and we had less idea where we were or what had happened to us than you do.” He shrugged. “That hasn’t changed, really, besides some wild-assed guesses, but where we are isn’t the all-consuming question it once was, and at least we’ve lived long enough for some of us to kick it around a little.

  “Now, if you think you’re going to just show up out of the blue and pull rank, there’s something you better know.” He held his thumb and forefinger about a quarter inch apart. “When we got here, we were that close to coming completely unwrapped, and only two things kept that from happening: the Skipper and the ’Cats. Captain Reddy never gave us a chance to wring our hands and worry and never allowed us to fall apart. He just kept doing his duty and expecting us to do ours… and we did. Not because of any oath or for a country we’ll probably never see again, but for each other.” He looked hard at Herring. “And for the skipper.” He lowered his voice. “It never even occurred to anyone until later that maybe we weren’t in the Navy anymore, but by then, it didn’t matter. The skipper was still the skipper, and Walker was the Navy.” He sighed and scratched his nose. “So the Navy’s a lot bigger now, and there aren’t many of us guys from Walker and Mahan and S-19 left, but, by God we did the right thing, the only thing, and Captain Reddy deserves most of the credit.

  “As for the ’Cats, we never would’ve made it without them, and, of course, all the ones here at least would be dead by now if we hadn’t become friends. We’ve been through a hell of a lot together, side by side, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’m sort of fond of the little guys. These ’Cats…” He paused and shook his head. “We just like each other. It’s hard to explain. They had their ways and we had ours, but compared to the fix we were all in together, the differences that cause separate drinking fountains back home just never mattered, see? We-us and them-never let it matter much, and when trouble came up over various things, it got squared away fast.” He chuckled. “Eventually, the little differences started going away. You’ve probably noticed how many of our ways most of them have taken on, particularly Navy and Marine ’Cats, and most of us probably seem a little weird to you too. I think, in all the ways that matter, we were a lot alike to start with.”

  He stopped again, and his smile turned downward. “One thing we have in common is that we’ve got ourselves one hell of a war. I’ve seen things… done things…” He gestured helplessly at the others. “All of us have… I’m sorry, sir, you just had to be here. This war is downright modern now compared to what it was. We’ve got guns and steamships and airplanes, for crying out loud, but it started with spears! I’ve heard it got pretty old-fashioned against the Japs in the Philippines, so maybe you can imagine a little of what I’m talking about, but this is a real war, a big war, and it’s mean as hell. It’s also for the whole enchilada: we win or die. It’s that simple.”

  “What Commander Letts is getting at, Commander Herring,” Ben Mallory interjected, “is that despite the fact that Captain Reddy’s done his best to uphold the traditions and organization of the Navy here, for a lot of reasons, you really don’t want to make a fuss about your seniority. That can only cause distractions that might cost lives. Right now, you’re not senior to anybody. Captain Reddy might see it different because that’s the kind of guy he is, but you won’t find another soul who thinks this is still your Navy. The U.S. Navy on this world belongs to Captain Reddy.”

  “I see,” Herring replied thoughtfully. “Do you agree with… Colonel Mallory’s assessment, Mr. Letts?”

  “I do, and as he said, I think you’ll find the sentiment universal.”

  “What will become of us, then? What if we decide this isn’t our war?” Herring actually chuckled. “If this isn’t my Navy, then its suspension of discharges for the duration can hardly apply.” The growing tension ebbed a notch.

  “That’s true. We’d love to have you-we need you-as long as you’ve got your heads straight about the setup around here. But your old oath doesn’t bind you, not to us. Captain Reddy made that clear when he asked the guys-all the humans in military service-to voluntarily reaffirm their oaths.” Letts eyed Herring closely, then glanced at the others. “Nobody backed out. This is a good cause, Commander. And what else would we do?”

  “Forgive me for asking, but what exactly is your cause… besides survival?”

  Alan suddenly realized that wasn’t a bad question.

  “Well… it started out as just survival, but it’s way beyond that now. Believe it or not, this isn’t a bad setup. Lots of growing pains, but we’re trying to build a kind of, well, republic, I guess, along the lines of the constitution we all swore to defend. I know it seems weird, and it is weird to the ’Cats. Some of their ‘states’ are those aircraft carrier-size ships.” He shrugged. “I guess if something as small as Rhode Island could be a state back home… Anyway, it’s kind of screwy, but in the end I guess we’re fighting for the same things we always have. Freedom, security, the principles we stand for… and each other.”

  Herring was silent a long moment. He too was looking at the graves now and the plaques. His companions were watching him, but by their expressions, Letts thought Gunny Horn and the Australian sailor had heard enough.

  “You make a compelling argument, Commander,” Herring said at last. “And yes, you’ve clearly earned your rank. To inspire such loyalty and confidence, your Captain Reddy surely has as well.” He paused again. “I need to think, to get up to speed, but I’m a quick learner. If I decide to join you, to ‘ship over,’ as it were, perhaps you might have need of an officer with intelligence training?”

  “I’ll say!” Letts and Brister chorused.

  Herring looked at his fellows. “I presume we could find civilian employment, but what are the terms of enlistment?”

  “It’s voluntary, but it’s for the duration,” Letts replied. “The ’Cats don’t have many rules, but they’re serious about the ones they have. All military personnel are governed by Rocks and Shoals. We’re still sorting out the pay scales-they didn’t even use money here before-but I think you’ll find the wages sufficient. In your cases, you’d go in with your current ranks or ratings, and we’d put you where we need you most.”

  “Sounds fair,” Herring said softly, looking at his comrades. “Well, men, I hate to break up the gang, but it’s up to you. It is nice to be able to choose our fates for a change.”

  “I have only one question,” Conrad Diebel said, pointing at another pair of P-40s sporting over the bay. “Can I fly one of those?”

  “You’ll have to earn one of those,” Ben answered immediately, “but you’ll fly.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  “How’s the chow?” Gunny Horn asked abruptly.

  “Weird,”
Alan confessed, “but good, I guess-and regular.”

  “Hmm. Well, hand over the enlistment papers, Commander Letts. We’ll ship over,” Horn said, speaking for himself and Lance Corporal Miles, while looking at Commander Herring as if for permission. Miles didn’t speak, but he frowned.

  Herring nodded. “Thanks for… everything, Gunny.”

  “No thanks necessary, sir.” He looked at Letts. “You’ve got a lot of these ’Cats running around calling themselves Marines. Maybe I could help with their training?”

  “Maybe so, Gunny,” Letts said thoughtfully. “But I think you’ll find they know their business pretty well. I may have another, more independent assignment for you.”

  “I’ll join,” said Leading Seaman Henry Stokes; then he hesitated. “But only if Commander Herring does. Even then, I’d like to stick with him. He might need a hand.”

  “Glad to have you, Stokes,” Herring said, glancing at Alan. “ If I join. Like I said, I’ve got some thinking to do… And I believe I will go down and observe those Grik captives you mentioned. Have I your permission to talk to others? In the various industries and military commands as well?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Letts replied. “But don’t take too long making up your mind.” He shrugged. “There’s a war on. When you decide, we need to talk to Chairman Adar. You’ll like him. If he’s not in too big a huff over the way you ran us around, I’m sure he’ll be delighted that we may soon have our own Office of Naval Intelligence. Less work for all of us, and maybe as a new eye, you’ll spot an opportunity we’ve been too close to the problem to see.” He looked at Stokes. “And you’ll need a staff.”

  CHAPTER 3