Matt nodded expressionlessly. “Lieutenant Shinya, allow me to present my officers.” He named the others at the table, and they each acknowledged him with a nod, but most were clearly displeased. The reaction wasn’t lost on the captain. “Gentlemen… and lady, Lieutenant Shinya’s country and ours may still be at war-wherever they are-but that can no longer affect us. That’s what we have to talk about. We must make plans based on the assumption that we’re completely on our own and the United States Navy can’t support us. At the same time, we must remain conscious of the fact that, no matter what, we’re still part of that Navy. No relaxation of discipline will be tolerated, and there’ll be no change whatever in the way we run this ship. Lieutenant Shinya is here because he is, literally, in the same boat we are and he is subject to the same rules and regulations as anyone else. There’ll be no special treatment”-he looked at his officers with a grim expression-“or abuse. Mr. Dowden?”
“Uh, yes, sir?”
“Acquaint yourself with Lieutenant Shinya and discover if he has useful talents or abilities. One way or the other, find something for him to do. Everybody pulls their weight.” He looked at Tamatsu. “Is that understood, Lieutenant? Those are my terms.”
Shinya bowed his head slightly and replied. “I understand perfectly, Captain Reddy.” There were murmurs of surprise when he spoke English. Most still wore set, closed expressions, but a few looked thoughtful.
Matt plowed right on to divert attention from their visitor. “First, as I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve turned around. We should have found Mahan, but we didn’t, so either we passed her somehow or…” He cast a hard glance down both sides of the table. “Or she’s lost. We’ll search as we retrace our steps, but we don’t have enough fuel to go all the way to Australia and back to Surabaya. Besides, I don’t really think Perth’s there anymore.”
“You’ve considered the probability that Surabaya isn’t there either?” questioned Bradford.
“Yes. In fact, I don’t imagine it is. But we must have fuel. Whatever’s happened to the world, the geography’s the same-at least around here. Can you think of any better place to find oil within our range? To be more specific, since you’re our expert on this point, where around here would we most likely find oil? Oil that we can easily extract?”
Bradford steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful. The pipe between his teeth wasn’t lit, but he sucked it speculatively. “I’ll have to consider that. There’s oil in this entire region, but I’m not sure where best to look. Surabaya, perhaps. There were significant deposits there, in our world. Deposits have been discovered recently under Flores as well. Allow me to consult my manuals. Perhaps they will tell me where it was first found, and how. That might have a bearing on where to look.”
“Very well,” Matt replied. “See what you can find and let me know as soon as you can.” He shifted his gaze to Lieutenant McFarlane. “What else can we burn in the boilers? Can we burn wood?”
Spanky returned his gaze with horror. “Jesus, Skipper! You can’t put wood in my boilers! It would screw everything up!”
Matt looked at him sharply. “I know it’s not our first choice, but can it physically be done?”
“Yes, sir…” answered the engineer reluctantly, “but it would be terrible. All that ash-it would be hell gettin’ it all out and it would screw up the boilers. Besides, we’d have to carry tons of the stuff. We’ve got nowhere to stow it and if we load it on deck, we’ll be top-heavy as hell- beggin’ your pardon, sir.”
“But it would work in an emergency? To get us from one island to the next?”
“It would,” he answered miserably.
“Very well. Come up with a plan to stow enough wood to take us, say, five hundred miles, if the need should arise.”
“Aye, sir.”
The captain turned to Sandra Tucker, and involuntarily his expression softened. “Lieutenant Tucker. How are things in your department?”
Sandra smiled at the mention of “her department,” which consisted of herself, Karen Theimer-the only other nurse who’d remained with Walker-and Jamie Miller, the pharmacist’s mate. There was no question it was her department, though, and a critical one. “Improving, sir. I think Rodriguez might return to limited duty in a week or so. His leg is healing nicely.” She looked down the table past Tamatsu and glowered at Sergeant Alden. “Speaking of legs, though, there are some people running around on them that shouldn’t be.” Alden pretended interest in something under the table. “The others should survive, but it’ll take time. There’re plenty of ‘walking wounded’ still on duty, but even if I tried to keep them in their bunks, I don’t think I could.” She looked straight into Matt’s eyes and continued. “Right now, everyone’s keyed up, with so much work just to keep the ship going. When the crisis is past, I expect a lot of casualties from exhaustion. The crew’s burning itself up. Wearing out.” Matt noddedback at her, realizing she was talking about him as much as anybody. She continued. “Actually, the only one I’m really worried about is Davis. He has a persistent fever, and no matter what I do, it just won’t break.”
“He was bitten by the lizard?”
Sandra nodded. “Mr. Bradford says they’re septic but not poisonous. That may be, even though they weren’t the same lizards he’s familiar with. It looks like a really nasty bacterial infection, but there might be some kind of toxic venom as well.” She shrugged.
“Keep me informed,” Matt said solemnly, and she nodded. “Mr. Garrett. How about guns? Small arms too.” Garrett frowned. “Is there a problem?” asked Matt. Garrett’s cheeks turned red, and he shook his head quickly.
“No, sir, no problem. I-I was just surprised by the question about small arms. I don’t have the exact numbers off the top of my head. No excuse, sir.”
The captain allowed a genuine smile. “A general idea would suffice, Mr. Garrett. I understand you’ve been busy with the number three gun?”
“Yes, sir,” Garrett replied, visibly relieved. “We got it working. The main problem was in the wiring, but there’s damage to the traverse gear. I’d like to get it in the machine shop as soon as I can. It binds.”
Matt looked at him thoughtfully, but shook his head. “Not right now. I don’t want any of our weapons out of action. Besides”-he looked at Ensign Sandison-“the condemned torpedoes have priority in the machine shop, except for essential repairs. Until we know more about those people on the big ship, I’d like to be able to put holes in it if we have to.”
Garrett glanced at Bernie and saw him write notes on a pad. He looked back at the captain. “Well, sir, other than that, the main battery’s okay. Gunner’s Mate Silva’s overhauled the machine guns, as well as the three-incher on the fantail. The magazines could be better. We depleted over a third of our four-inch fifty, and three-inch twenty-three point five-for all the good it did!” The uselessness of the three-inch gun at the stern would have been a running joke-if it were funny. “We picked up a lot of machine gun ammo in Surabaya, but those trigger-happy goons burned through nearly all the extra. We still have a little more than our full allotment, but. ..” He took a deep breath. “As for small arms, I don’t have exact numbers,” he repeated apologetically, “but we’re in fairly good shape. It’s not unusual for Asiatic Fleet sailors to act as Marines- particularly in China, and the armory’s got sixty Springfields, and probably two dozen 1911 pistols. We also have four Browning automatic rifles and half a dozen Thompsons. The ammunition headstamps are pretty old-1918-but the stuff looks okay. There’s even a few thousand rounds of the old thirty U.S., which is good, because there’re several crates, down under everything, that say they have Krag rifles in them. Maybe somebody picked them up in the Philippines?”
Gray grunted. “I doubt it. Walker was commissioned in 1919, and a lot of Krags were still in the Navy. I bet they came with the ship. Probably never been out of their crates.”
Matt nodded. “Look into it. Anything else?”
“Aye, aye, sir. No, sir.”