Mallory needed no encouragement. He'd watched the "bomb" all the way in. He pushed the throttles to their stops. Sluggishly, the waterlogged plane picked up speed. The roar of the engines and hammering guns made it too loud to think. Another explosion washed the sea, but it missed them safely aft. The faster target must have spoiled their aim. Then, as quickly as the battle had begun, they sped clear of the monsters' ships and Brister shouted to hold their fire. The other ship was closing still, but at their current heading, it would never reach them in time to cut them off.
Water from the massive wake they made splashed in through the blisters and hissed on the barrels of the superheated guns.
Brister turned to Palmer, eyes wide. "Wow!"
There was still a lot of water in the plane, but they plowed upwind as far as they could before they powered down. Mallory left the motors idling, props feathered, and helped them bail some more.
"Talk about your floating freak shows!" he gasped, throwing water past the gun. "Damn plane looks like a pincushion! Goddamn arrows!"
"Just be glad they weren't muskets or cannons," said Brister. "We wouldn't have had a chance! Arrows and firebombs were bad enough!"
"I'll say! What now?" Palmer asked.
"Keep bailing," Ben replied. "A few hundred more pounds and we'll get her in the air. Then we can dump what's left." He grinned. "Once we do that, start looking for holes!"
Less than an hour later, the battered seaplane clawed into the air and followed after Mahan. Mallory didn't know if the monsters saw them or not, now they were stuck in the bay. If they did, he wondered what they thought. The plane quickly overtookMahan and landed at her side. Brister seethed with rage at the man who'd left them to their fate, but to his surprise Kaufman met them himself in the whaleboat with smiles and waves.
"Keep hold of yourself," Mallory said. "Remember, we're going to fly to Ceylon and save the day. Stick to the plan!" Brister simmered down, but all he wanted to do was kill the Army captain with his bare hands.
"Let's just shoot him with the thirty in the nose," Palmer said through a clenched-teeth grin.
"Won't work. Like Mr. Ellis said before he got sick, he's got too many on his side. Even if we got him, there might be a bloodbath. Some of 'em are crazy as he is, and they have all the guns."
"Okay," said Mallory, adjusting the throttles so he wouldn't smack the boat as it came alongside. "I'll stay with the plane—I have to. Get all the fuel and anything else you can think of. Maps, more food, whatever.
Maybe even more people, but don't be too obvious. We know he won't let Mr. Ellis come."
"Right." Together, Perry and Ed jumped in the whaleboat.
"You really did it!" Kaufman gushed. "Did you have much trouble?"
"No," lied Brister cheerfully. "Piece of cake. Let's hurry up and get the fuel on board. The quicker we're back in the air, the quicker we'll be in Ceylon!"
Kaufman refused to allow anyone to accompany them. Three was enough, he said, to risk on such a dangerous flight. Perry did manage to slip away to "get some gear," and he went to see Jim Ellis before he left the ship. Jim was trying to climb the companionway stairs when he found him, supported by crutches and Pam Cross and Kathy McCoy. Beth Grizzel wasn't there.
"You made it," he said. "Thank God."
"Yes, sir. Thank God. No thanks to that bastard Kaufman. He left us to die."
"I know. Listen, you must find Walker! Kaufman's nuts; half the crew's nuts. It's just a matter of time before he kills us all. You know as well as I do, Ceylon's not there. There's no telling what is. Find Walker, find Captain Reddy . . ." He gasped from the effort of his words and exertions.
"We will."
"Tell him I'm sorry I failed him. I'm sorry I let the men down."
"It's not your fault, sir!"
"Isn't it?" Jim sighed. "Maybe not, but it's my responsibility."
"He shot you!"
Jim laughed bitterly. "A good commander would have shot him first!
Now get your ass out of here before Kaufman starts nosing around!"
Perry looked at the two nurses. He hated to leave them behind, but Kaufman wouldn't part with them. The surgeon was acting funny, and the nurses were it. There were still a lot of wounded on the ship. Besides, their errand might be doomed from the start. They had only so much fuel and they had no idea where Walker was.
"Aye, aye, sir." Perry Brister said, and shook Jim Ellis's hand. Pam stepped quickly forward and planted a kiss lightly on his cheek.
"For luck!" she said, then punched his shoulder. Hard. "Tell Lieutenant Tucker we're keeping the faith." She glanced at Kathy and grimaced.
"Two out of three anyway. Beth's as crazy as Kaufman." She shrugged and kissed him again, on the mouth this time. "Double luck! Now git out'a heah!" Blushing, Perry saluted Lieutenant Ellis and raced for the boat.
Later, when they thundered into the darkening sky and circled the lonely, misguided ship for the last time, Brister thought he caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Ellis leaning on his crutches by the rail, a small group gathered around him.
The two and a half weeks since Walker's arrival had been a whirlwind of frantic activity. Despite acknowledging the danger they faced, Matt suspected the 'Cats weren't quite prepared for the pace the destroyermen set.
The trauma of getting their economy and society on a war footing was causing a stir, but Matt and his crew knew what had happened at Pearl Harbor and Clark Field. They'd seen what happened at Cavite. They'd learned a hard lesson in preparedness, and as long as their fortunes were tied to those of their new friends, they wouldn't let them waste time they might later regret. Big Sal 's crew was equally motivated, and repairs to the big ship moved apace. The very day after the "party," Walker was moved to the pier and as extensive an overhaul as possible began. The number three gun was repaired, and all the circuits coordinating the main battery were checked and spliced. Steaming on only the number four boiler to maintain electrical power, they checked the other boilers and repaired firebrick. There was nothing to be done for number one so it was stripped and prepared for disassembly and removal. Spanky wanted the space for more fuel bunkerage—once they got fuel.
The Baalkpan Lemurians were just as amazed as Big Sal's that Walker was made of steel. Whenever the welders went to work, the pier lined with spectators watching the sparks and eye-burning torches with as much enthusiasm as if it had been a fireworks display. Iron wasn't unknown to the People, but it was so hard to smelt that it was little used. Dave Elden had spent two years in a steel mill in Pittsburgh. He'd already talked to the proprietors of the foundry on the northeast of town, where he'd gone to have brass fittings cast. He reported they used the sand-cast method almost exclusively but were very good at it and there would be almost nothing they couldn't cast with a larger furnace and a little guidance. He even figured he could get them started on iron if a source for ore could be found.
Half the snipes set out into the jungle with Courtney Bradford and about a hundred natives in search of oil. The procession had looked like a nineteenth-century safari. They hadn't searched long before they found a likely place. Bradford's charts and journals were helpful, and he had most of the Dutch surveys. As long as everything was the same geographically, there was every reason to believe that oil could be found in the same places it had been back "home." He hadn't yet shared his theory, but they'd all been very busy. Matt already suspected what the gist of it was and looked forward to the discussion, but for now there was too much to do.