He leaned back in the chair, considering, his eyes sweeping across the clock on the bulkhead. It was time. Sighing, he shifted forward and tapped out the string of memorized dots and dashes. He began to lean back again when he almost lost his eardrums to the intensity of the unexpected reply. Tossing the headset down, he dashed through the hatch to get Clancy.
Matt stared at the vaen brought up the rear, escorting a still-drowsy O’Casey. The dim red light in the pilothouse provided barely enough illumination for the watch to move about, and the starboard wing where Matt waited was almost totally dark, a heavy overcast blotting out the stars. “We’ve finally heard from Baalkpan,” he announced without preamble, with a touch of irony. They’d be there in a few hours.
“That is good news,” Adar said.
“Very good,” Matt agreed. “Mr. Riggs constructed a broadband spark-gap transmitter pretty quickly evidently, but he couldn’t power it. The batteries are going to take longer than he thought. Trouble making sulfuric acid. Anyway, Mahan finally came crawling in yesterday, and they used her generators.”
They didn’t like the sound of that. “What happened to her, and why did Mr. Ellis disobey you?” asked Keje.
Matt told them about Donaghey ’s fight, and how Queen Maraan and Pete Alden got left behind. It all made sense now; with Donaghey under repair, and the other frigates incomplete, Mahan was the only ship that could have pulled off the rescue against cannon-armed Grik. But it had been a terrible risk. It hadn’t gone all her way, either. Baalkpan already knew the Grik were coming; Mahan had run the gauntlet of their fleet. She’d expended most of her remaining ammunition and destroyed as many of their cannon-armed ships as she could, but she’d been severely punished in return. Matt had it on good authority now: the crude Grik shot could indeed punch through his old ships’ rusty sides at point-blank range.
“Was she badly damaged?”
“She had some casualties-hard not to, as packed as she was, and she lost a boiler. Good thing the wind’s in the enemy’s teeth, or they might’ve caught her.”
“And Queen Maraan? Aal-den?” Adar asked urgently.
“Safe. They lost Haakar-Faask, it seems, but no details.”
“Most unfortunate,” Keje rumbled. “I did not know him well, but he had great honor. I trust his end was noteworthy.” He hesitated. “Have you told Chack?”
Keje approved of Chack and Safir Maraan’s relationship, but he also wanted happiness for his daughter, Selass. It was a tough situation, but one Selass had brought on herself, as far as he was concerned.
“Yeah, I expect he’s in the firerooms now, pestering them to step on it.”
“What of Amagi?” Shinya asked, carefully neutral.
Matt looked at the Japanese officer. Shinya had been given considerable time to resolve his inner turmoil concerning Amagi, maybe too much time. Now he must quickly decide where he stood. The luxury of time for contemplation was over for all of them. Matt felt a pang of guilt, however. He’d read only most of Kaufman’s message to his assembled officers, and suggested Kaufman might have subverted a single sailor to let him send it-which might be the case. He’d deliberately withheld the possibilitit wouldn’t make any difference.
“Jim didn’t see her, so she hadn’t sailed with the enemy vanguard, at least.”
“Oh four hundred, Skipper,” Dowden interrupted.
“Very well. Sound general quarters.”
The alarm reverberated through the ship, and the relative peace was shattered by frantic activity. Most of the crew was already up, anticipating the daily ritual and eating breakfast, so there was literally no delay before Campeti and his fire-control team scampered up the ladder behind them, and Silva-and now the Bosun too-began loudly exhorting their divisions. Even in the dim light, Matt saw that O’Casey was impressed by the discipline.
“That leaves us with you, Mr. Sean O’Casey… if that’s really your name. You didn’t seem as pleased by the prospect of ‘rescue’ as the young lady did. Is there some reason you don’t want this Jenks to find you?”
“Ye… might say that.”
“Well. The last thing we want right now is war with your people-the war we already have is quite sufficient! But if Jenks is as big a jerk as the Bosun says, we’re liable to have one if you don’t tell me what I want to know. They’re obviously looking for you, or more probably the girl, and they’ve gone to extraordinary lengths to do so. Each of those ‘rescue’ ships might have suffered the same fate as yours. That’s a hell of a risk to take on such slim odds, and I have to know why. Is Jenks a threat? Now, you may not believe it, but this single ship, battered as she is, could slaughter his entire squadron without working up a sweat.” He glanced at the others and shook the message form. “Hell, according to this, Donaghey ’s repairs are complete and the new frigates Kas – Ra – Ar and Tolson will join her and the guard ship, Big Sal, currently on duty.” Keje formed a predatory grin. If plans had gone apace, his Home, Salissa, had become even more formidable during their absence. “Jenks can hurt my frigates, and it’d probably be a hell of a fight, but based on Gray’s estimates I’m confident they can take him. So, do I send those frigates after him, or keep them here, where we really need them?”
O’Casey slumped. “All right. I may be on the run, but I’m no traitor-although Captain Jenks might disagree. I’ve told ye nothing of the location of our homeland, an’ won’t, because that’s been pounded into us since birth: safety from secrecy. Aye, ’tis a tradition passed down from our ancestors who first came to this world. They knew of the Grik, and the Ape Folk, as they called them, but assumed that eventually the first would conquer the second, an’ they didna want anyone knowin’ where ta find us. They set a colony on some secluded islands in the middle o’ the Pacific, what the Ape Folk-Lemurians-call the Eastern Sea. Over the last two-hundred-odd years, their colony’s grown into an empire, the ‘Empire of New Britain Isles,’ an’ now includes many islands, as well as larger lands. It’s become prosperous an’ powerful but, over time, tyrannical as well. The governor-emperor is a good, kindly man, as have been most of his predecessors, but the company has supplanted the Cour terrible wrong, an’ we didna succeed. I’m sorry for that, but not for tryin’.”
She still seemed stunned. “So you will stay with these people? Fight with them?”
“Aye. Theirs seems a cause worth fightin’ for, after all, an’ hopeless as they make it sound, it isna over yet.” He lowered his head. “Me last cause is finished, an’ there isna any hope a’tall.”
“Perhaps,” she hedged, still uncertain. “We shall see. In any event, I shall not betray you. If Captain Jenks arrives, I shall tell the entire truth of our ordeal, but at first I shall not reveal you live. Enough?”
He nodded. “Enough, Your Highness. Thank ye.”
Silva had drifted over. “What the hell’s all this ‘Highness’ shit?”
Captain Reddy appeared, dressed in his finest, academy sword at his side. “Yes, Mr. Silva,” he said quietly, looking at the girl. “You’ve been associating with royalty all this time, and never even knew it. None of us did.” He glanced around. He’d already decided to include Silva in the circle of those who had the “need to know,” and he made sure no one else was near enough to hear. “And for now, that’s the way it stays. Tell no one. From now on, if, and until her own people collect her, she’s your responsibility: yours and Mr. O’Casey’s, of course. Her safety’s in your hands.” He paused. “Highness?” The girl nodded. “Well. Perhaps a proper introduction is in order at last?”
“Becky” cleared her throat. “Rebecca Anne McDonald will suffice, I think,” she answered. “As Mr. O’Casey just pointed out, my various titles are rather meaningless anymore. Only one might pertain to the current situation”-she glanced at Silva with a grin-“and I might just trot it out someday, if I get the chance.”
Just then she perceived a clattering, rumbling drone unlike anything she’d heard before, growing louder by the moment. She looked up.