“My God!” exploded Garrett. “We can’t have left that many behind! We got them all, Captain! Mr. Ellis and I.” His tone became pleading. “We took everyone we could-everyone who came to the rendezvous! Maybe some didn’t make it, but… my God!”
“I’m sure you got all you could, Greg,” Matt said, his voice wooden. “But they were here a long time. Long enough to scour Java clean of all the ‘prey’ we never had a chance to save. The people of Bataava, the other cities…”
Rolak jerked his sword free of his belt and desperately cast his eyes about for something to cleave. With a wail of anguish, he finally buried the point in the deck. Even Garrett didn’t scold him.
“Do you think they’re gone then?” Safir asked, stepping to face him. Her eyes were pools of horror and Chack supported her as though she might faint. Her usually immaculate silver-washed breastplate had been splashed with the contents of her stomach.
“Yeah. I think so.” His lips curled in a snarl. “Why else do that ?”
“What do you mean?” asked Chack. “We know they collect skulls.. . ‘trophies’ of their prey.”
“But they didn’t collect them!” Matt insisted. “They left them here like that! Maybe not all of them are gone, and keep that in mind when you go ashore, but I bet most are. For some reason, they’ve abandoned this place and they knew, eventually, we’d return.” He gestured at the city and the literally thousands of stakes. “And they wanted to make sure, when we did, we’d see that!”
“Skipper,” Garrett said quietly, “I think if Mr. Bradford were here, he’d say something profound, about the lizards being more sophisticated than we thought, or something like that. I bet they did this as a warning. To scare us. Make us stay away.”
“You’re probably right. Maybe they are more sophisticated, or maybe Kurokawa put them up to it. Doesn’t matter.” He looked at those around him, then forced himself to look at the city again. “I think they’ll find it has an opposite effect than they intended. Just like Pearl Harbor.” By now, most of the ’Cats knew the significance of that reference. “I want to exterminate them like the vermin they are.” He paused, then spoke to Garrett. “Signal the corvettes to disembark their troops as planned. Form a perimeter around the landing area. The steamers will cover the landing with their heavy guns. Once we have a beachhead, we’ll put the rest of the troops ashore, again, just like we planned. Whether the landing is contested or not, I want everybody acting like it is. Good practice. Finally, send a signal to Achilles, with my compliments, and ask Commodore Jenks if he’d care to accompany me ashore.” Matt’s face hardened. “I think it’s high time our reluctant British friends saw the true face of our enemy.”
Captain Reddy met Jenks’s boat at the dock. Rolak was with him, along with the old warrior’s staff. The only other human was Chief Gray, looming behind his captain with a Thompson submachine gun. The gun had once been Tony Scott’s personal weapon and it hadn’t saved him in the end-but he hadn’t had it with him, had he? Gray was determined that Captain Reddy would always have him and the weapon at his back whenever he was at risk. Jenks stepped out of the boat with another white-coated figure. Both held perfumed cloths over their faces. Four of the red-coated, bare-legged Imperial Marines stepped ashore as well, bright muskets on their shoulders.
Jenks was watching the rapid, professional deployment of the Marines the 600, and the slightly less practiced arrival of the Army regiments. Once ashore however, the Army seemed as competent as the others. Matt sensed that Jenks was a little surprised and perhaps slightly daunted by what he saw. The Marines established a perimeter near where the old breastworks once had been, and Safir’s 600-who trained with the Marines to the same rigorous standards-deployed across the road leading to the main gate. The Army regiments, in their multicolored leather armor and kilts, took supporting positions as the Marines broadened the beachhead. Four light guns were off-loaded and placed, by sections, in the center and on the right flank. Nothing stirred across the vast plain on the left.
Slowly, the steamers nudged their way closer to the dock. General Alden led the rest of the forces ashore and soon the area within the perimeter teemed with troops. In two hours, they had four thousand battle-tested, well-trained soldiers from every Allied power probing slowly forward and automatically preparing defensive positions around the perimeter. The steamers moved away and joined the frigates, where they could defend against any attack from the sea, while covering the ground force with their guns. It struck Matt how differently this landing was going from the first one they’d made on these very shores. Then, it had been dark and chaotic, and the Army was largely untested. It wasn’t quite as big either. He was confident that if he’d brought these troops ashore back then, they could easily have defeated the nearly twenty thousand Grik despite Rasic’s treachery, without any help from Aryaal at all. The weapons were the same as before, even though there’d been some familiarization training with the new prototypes. Full-scale production was just beginning when they left, and there was no sense “trickling” the new weapons in. The main difference between this Army and the old was, literally, a level of professionalism that came only with experience and confidence.
Alden and Chack approached and saluted. Alden was the overall field commander and the various regimental commanders would have already reported to him. “Skipper,” he said, “we’ve pushed nearly to the gates.” He scowled. “Close enough to get a good look at all the heads.” He glanced at Jenks appraisingly. “Lord Rolak’s supporting the Second Marines and the Six Hundred with the First and Third Aryaal. He begs the… ah… privilege of being the first to enter his city.”
Matt nodded. “Very well. Chack, you and Queen Maraan let him through, but I want you both to support him closely. No telling what surprises the enemy may have left. Form a perimeter inside the gate, in that open area around the big fountain like we did last time. Use other supporting regiments. After the plaza’s secure, proceed to secure the rest of the city. Once we’re sure the enemy’s gone, we’ll form details to take those damn heads down.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” Alden and Chack chorused, and trotted off. Matt turned to Jenks, who’d remained mostly silent since coming ashore.
“A most impressive display, Captain Reddy,” Jenks said. His tone held no irony.
“I guess you could do it better, though,” muttered Gray sarcastically. Despite the slightly more cordial relations between Jenks and his captain, the Bosun hadn’t thawed.
Jenks rounded on Gray, snatching the kerchief from his face. “It was a genuine compliment, Mr. Gray. I do grow weary of your attitude, however. You have harbored a grudge for long months now and perhaps I provoked it. If so, I sincerely apologize in the presence of”-he waved toward the countless pikes-“these tragic dead. That said, and the apology made, I will gladly oblige you if you insist on a confrontation.” Jenks took a breath and suddenly gagged violently. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and, stepping a short distance away, he retched. His companion, kerchief still in place, joined the commodore while he continued to heave and gasp.
Gray was stunned. “I’ll be damned,” he managed. “That Bakelite Brit can bend a little after all.” He lowered his voice. “Even if it did break him to do it.”
“Leave him be, Boats. He’s been ‘bending’ quite a bit lately. More than you know. And seeing that”-he nodded at the city-“could break anybody. We’ve kind of gotten used to it,” he said bitterly, “and it still makes me want to puke.”
Jenks finally composed himself and returned to face them. His color was ashen. “My apologies again, gentlemen.” His voice was rough.