"I should help them. I should go across immediately and offer assistance, Captain." She'd turned to face him, her words changing from an observation to a formal request.
He looked at her thoughtfully, but reluctantly shook his head. "That might be a good idea," he temporized. "It wouldn't hurt our rйsumй with our new friends either, as long as they recognize your efforts for what they are. But it's just not possible."
"I'm afraid I must insist, Captain. We had no casualties and I'm sure I can make my intentions known. Pain has no language. Even if I can't speak to them or know their physiology, I can help bandage. My God, they may not even know about germs!"
He nodded sympathetically and spoke very gently. "I admire your courage and compassion. But it really is impossible and you must not insist." He gestured over the side. The sea still churned with the silvery, tuna-sized fish. Whenever another lizard hit the water, it frothed and thrashed anew. Sandra followed his gaze and bit her lip. "There's no way I'm risking you or Nurse Theimer—not to mention a boat and crew— until things settle down. By morning the fish may have had their fill, and in daylight we might give it a try."
"There's no other way?" she asked, almost plaintively.
"No. In daylight, if those things are still down there, and we can get the Lemurians to understand, we might shoot a line across and rig a bosun's chair. But that'll take coordination and some very careful station-keeping. If one of those plesiosaurs shows up, we might have to maneuver . . ." He stopped. "That won't work either. Hopefully by then we can just use a boat."
He spoke no more and just stared across the water. His face was troubled, frowning. He was anxious to meet the Lemurians for a number of reasons. First, he certainly agreed with Sandra: if they could render medical assistance, they should offer it. More important, they'd just waded into a war in a big way, and he had no idea where they stood or how big a war it was. Possibly the lizards were simply raiders, the local equivalent of Malay pirates. Maybe the Lemurians represented the greater power, and even if there was a general war going on, they'd just ingratiated themselves to that power and all their problems were solved. But it was equally possible that the reverse was true. One of the lizard ships had escaped, and however powerful they might be, there was no doubt about the role Walker played in the battle. What's more, they might not be so easily discouraged by modern weapons again. He wanted answers. And there lurked another problem: how in the world would they communicate? Perhaps Bradford would have suggestions.
After a while Sandra tentatively put her hand on his in the darkness. "I'm sorry again," she said.
He looked at her, genuinely surprised—by the words and the touch. "What for?"
"For . . . a lot of things. For pressuring you. Doubting you. I know how hard it was, how much you wanted to avoid this. But you did the right thing."
He looked at her very frankly and sighed. "I think so too, or I wouldn't have done it. I hope we're both right." He smiled. "I guess we'll find out."
With the dawn, the sea regained its deceptively mild appearance and Captain Reddy ordered the larger motor launch prepared instead of the whaleboat. It was safer, and he wanted as many observers as possible. Sandra, Bradford, Gray, McFarlane, and Letts would go with him, along with two carpenter's mates and an armed security detachment consisting of Silva, Felts, Reavis, and Newman. Tony Scott was coxswain. On a whim, more than for any other reason, Matt accepted Lieutenant Shinya's request to go, although he would be the only one without a sidearm. He wasn't really worried that Shinya would do anything untoward, but he believed—and even took time to explain to him—that the crew wouldn't approve.
Again, he left Larry Dowden in command. "I don't expect any trouble," he told him, "but that's what I thought last time. Remain at general quarters while we're away. They've got to be expecting to say howdy in some fashion, but I'd rather do it on their ship first. If we wait around too long, they might decide to visit us, and I don't want them roaming around my ship until we know more about them."
"Understood, Captain, but I still ought to be the one to go," Dowden said with a frown.
Matt grinned. "May be, but I'm the captain, so I get to do what I want. Seriously, though, I agree in principle, but—well, we've already been through this. You can be the first to meet the strange alien creatures next time, Larry. I promise."
He climbed into the launch, which was already level with the deck. That was another good thing about the launch, he thought: it could be lowered with them in it. Slipping and falling into the water was no longer just an embarrassing gaffe; it was a death sentence. The keel smacked the waves and, with a burbling roar, they started across. The sun was up, but it was still early and Matt hoped they wouldn't catch the Lemurians in a crabby mood before their version of morning coffee. More important, he didn't want to surprise them. He needn't have been concerned. Evidently, they'd been watching his ship very closely because, as soon as they approached, many of the creatures stopped what they were doing and scampered to the rail. Strange, excited cries alerted others.
"Hail the conquering heroes," the Bosun growled.
As they drew nearer, the ship's sheer size was even more impressive from their lower perspective. The rail was easily a hundred feet over their heads, and there was no question that the thing was as large as one of the new fleet carriers. Maybe bigger. That made the damage it had sustained even more amazing. The forward superstructure was completely destroyed, and the foremast tripod stood naked and charred. The pagoda-like tower had collapsed upon itself to become a mere heap of smoldering rubble. Clouds of ash billowed to leeward like gouts of steam. The forward part of the hull was scorched as well, though there didn't seem to be serious damage to its structural integrity. It was massive, and while it was clearly made of wood, there was no telling how thick it was. Matt was surprised to discover that the bottom was copper-clad, much like Walker's sailing-navy ancestors. No doubt the copper extending several feet above the sea served the same purpose here—to protect the hull from wood-eating organisms.
They coasted alongside, approximately amidships, until the launch almost bumped. But Scott was an excellent coxswain even with the more unfamiliar launch, and he avoided actual contact by the thinnest margin. They saw no way up, however. There were no steps or ladders for them to climb, and for the moment they could only stare at the numerous heads, high above, peering back down at them. Suddenly, a very familiar-looking rope-and-rung arrangement unrolled down the side with a clatter and jerked to a stop almost upon them.
"Well," said Bradford, "not exactly a red carpet, after all, but certainly a warmer welcome than they gave their last visitors." There were several chuckles, and Matt took the ladder in his hands.
"Ordinarily, I always say `ladies first,' but this time I'll break that rule." There were more chuckles and a few uneasy glances at Lieutenant Tucker. Her reputation and stature had reached an unprecedented level, for a non-destroyerman (and a woman). She possessed undoubted skill as a healer and was genuinely friendly to those in her care. But she'd flown signals of an equally unprecedented temper, and her sense of humor had yet to be tried. She didn't take offense at the captain's attempt to seem lighthearted about his protectiveness of her, however.
"Boats, you're next, then the security detail. Once they're up, everyone can follow as they see fit." He started up the ladder, but then stopped. "Everybody stay cool and friendly, and remember who you are and what you represent." With that, he resumed his climb. He tried to appear brisk and confident and hoped no one detected his nervousness. He wasn't afraid, exactly, but he had to admit to some anxious uncertainty. Never in his most bizarre dreams had he imagined that he would be doing what he was right now. Nothing he'd ever done had prepared him for this moment, and he didn't have the slightest idea what to do. The only thing he was sure of was that nobody else did either and he'd better not screw it up.