B00BPJL400 EBOK (30 page)

“Perhaps we should let Mr. Scott explain from the beginning, Lieutenant Cross,” Brassey said.

“Yeah.” Scott looked back at Silva. The two had been friends, and he felt more comfortable talking to him. “Both ships showed up about two months ago; that big-ass Home, and a heavy Jap tin can. The can was all shot up, like, as bad or worse than
Walker
was when we first made it to Baalkpan. But they’d captured
Fristar
and had her under their guns. About two hundred Japs came ashore with rifles and machine guns and shit and just about wiped out the whole village I was talkin’ about. Next they put most of the ’Cats, a couple thousand or so, ashore, and started ’em drilling for oil on half a dozen rigs not much different from the one those goofy Mice cooked up.” He grinned at the memory, but the smile faded and his eyes turned grim.

“Have they struck oil yet?” Abel asked.

“I’m not sure. They might have.” He paused. “Will they?”

“Good question,” interjected Horn. “
Is
there oil around here? I mean, you guys found a bunch down south—and I guess that’s why the Japs wanted the Dutch East Indies in the first place, you know, back home. But will they find any here?”

Abel jerked a nod. “I’m afraid so. Mr. Bradford’s notes indicated significant local reserves discovered in the twenties. What’s more, these . . . later-arriving Japanese are sure to be aware of them, since they conquered the region from my people—the British—before we even fled Surabaya.” He sighed. “Barring a miracle or gross incompetence we can’t count on, they probably will find oil, if they haven’t already.”

“Later arriving,” Scott said, nodding. “I figured you knew about that Jap ship—or she knew about you. That explains why they keep her snugged up, close to shore, covered with trees and bushes and such. You guys have airplanes now—we’ve seen ’em a few times—so I thought the Japs might be hidin’ from you.”

“
Hidoiame
,” Brassey said, his tone certain, and Abel nodded agreement. “It has to be, particularly based on the description.”

Silva swore. “Bitch has more lives than a . . .” He shrugged. “Well, you know what I mean.”

Abel frowned at Tony. “You’re right, Mr. Scott. The Japanese destroyer
is
hiding from us, and USS
Walker
gave her many of the wounds you’ve seen. We thought she was doomed, but she clearly survived long enough to coerce
Fristar
’s aid. Even with her few cannons,
Fristar
would’ve been helpless against
Hidoiame
. Her people would’ve had no choice but to obey the Japanese. I’m glad you’ve restrained your people from attacking the workers, Mr. Scott. They’re just as much victims as the Khonashi.”

“That’s what I thought, but it ain’t been easy. Especially with them workin’ for those murderin’ Japs, willing or not. My people have suffered and they’re mad. I can’t make ’em love the ’Cats, but so far I’ve been able to keep my folks from killing them—on the condition that we
will
kill the Japs.” He blew a frustrated breath. “The trouble is, as we taught the Grik, swords and crossbows ain’t no match for modern weapons, and a straight-up fight’ll be a bloodbath. We might win, but even if we do, we’ll be easy pickings for our other enemies.” He looked ruefully at Silva. “Bein’ king ain’t all fun and games.” He turned back to Abel. “Maybe I’m AWOL, but these’re my people now, just as much as my old shipmates and even the Baalkpan ’Cats. I know you won the fight at Baalkpan, but I also know the war ain’t over. Too many ships keep building and sailing off, and too many troops too. I been doin’ my best to get it where my people here, and my people down south can get along with each other, but it’s to the point where I need some kind of
goddamn help up here
!”

“You could just wait them out, let them get their oil and leave,” Abel said softly.

Scott turned back to Silva. “Who the hell
is
this kid, Dennis? I’ll let my people kill every single worker on the rigs before I let those Japs just steam out of here! That’s what I’m trying to
stop
!”

“Relax, Tony,” Silva assured him. “He knows.”

Abel nodded. “I was merely pointing out that despite your unusual circumstances, you’ve not forgotten your duty. Ultimately, it’s in all our interests to capture or destroy
Hidoiame
. With fuel, she may well reach our other enemies and make them even more difficult to defeat.”

He glanced at Silva and Horn, and suddenly looked very much the young teenager he actually was once more. “I . . . I didn’t expect this sort of thing at all. I suppose our next move should be to see the situation for ourselves, then decide what to do about it.”

“Yessir,” Silva agreed. “That’s exactly what we gotta do.”

“I wish we could just whistle up some air from Baalkpan to take care of that Jap can,” Horn grumped.

Stuart Brassey nodded helplessly. He’d long since discarded the damaged wireless equipment. He couldn’t fix it, and not only was it heavy, but their relentless pace and the climate-induced corrosion had outdone his best efforts to maintain the salvageable components.

“We could cut a large clearing in the jungle and light a signal to ’atrol ‘Nancys’!” Lawrence suggested, joining the conversation. He’d been conscious that he was the center of much curiosity from all the natives, as well as this Tony Scott.

“Jaaphs see s’oke, go search us!” I’joorka warned.

“Probably not from that far away,” Tony speculated.

“Yeah,” Horn agreed, “and we lay out a big arrow or message that says ‘Japs are anchored to shoreward of
Fristar.
’”

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Silva grudged. “An’ besides the usual patrol grids, our folks are prob’ly out lookin’ for sign of us, anyway. But Borno’s near as big as Texas. You might have to keep a smoke signal like that goin’ for weeks before anybody sees it. If we
could
lay out a message they can read from the air, they’d likely spot
Hoo-dooy-yammy
once they’re lookin’ for her, though. Prob’ly use the P-Forties Ben Mallory left in Baalkpan to paste her. Ever’body’s happy—if it goes down like that.”

“P-Forties?” Tony asked, incredulously.

“Another long story.”

“That may be the most sensible course of action,” Abel said thoughtfully, “and we should certainly do it immediately. But I believe we need to consider it ‘plan B,’ as you say. Chief Silva has reminded us that there’s no guarantee our planes will see a signal for some time, and
Hidoiame
may steam away”—he shrugged—“well, tomorrow.” He set his jaw. “Under
no
circumstances can that ship be allowed to leave this place.”

Silva grinned and thumped Abel on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over. “Then what are we waitin’ for?” He glared at Tony’s wasted leg. “You ain’t good for much, so why don’t you get the smoke signals started while we go have a look at this Jap?”

“I get around better than you might think,” Tony snapped back, “but I’ll have a detail get started on a clearing and a fire that’ll draw attention for a hundred miles!”

“Excellent,” Abel said, then paused. “I think we should begin as soon as possible, but I’d like to ask a few questions first.”

“He’s kinda Courtney Bradford’s pro-to-jay,” Dennis said, rolling his eye. Abel glared at him. “Quite so.” He looked back at Scott. “But I simply must ask where all the humans came from, and how long they’ve been Khonashis!”

Scott blinked at him. “Hell, I don’t know. I figure they’re Malays or somethin’. Wound up here a hundred years or so ago on fishing boats. Least, that’s their story. Joined up with the Khonashis against some other tribe in the southeast and been together ever since.” He gestured at the woman who’d ushered him out. “She knows the whole story by heart, and you can nag her about it all you want when we ever get a chance to just sit around and swap yarns.”

“I look forward to it,” Abel said, looking at the woman.

“I got a question,” Pam interjected when it seemed they were all about to just dash back off into the jungle. “I mean, I’m tired and starvin’ and I just gotta know: you folks don’t eat bugs all the time, do you?”

23

//////
North
Borno Coast

“N
o half measures,” Dennis Silva muttered, staring through his small Imperial telescope. To all appearances,
Fristar
was moored in the narrow, deep-water cove to render oil from the huge gri-kakka fish—various types of plesiosaur, according to Bradford—which was the primary commercial occupation of all the great seagoing Homes. Her massive “wings” were stowed athwartships, and dark smoke streamed shoreward from multiple tryworks. Gri-kakka boats, lateen sails set, towed a near-continuous stream of the massive, lance-festooned fish into the cove. There they were hoisted onto wide, floating platforms away from the flasher fish feasting on them. Dennis had seen the operation only a few times, and he’d always wanted to go on a gri-kakka hunt. The idea of harpooning such a large animal, then riding the small boat like the whalermen of old—but on an even more hostile sea—absolutely thrilled him. He’d been
ordered
not to do it, of course, but that didn’t matter as much to him as the fact there’d just never been the time. Also, like any hunt, chasing gri-kakka wasn’t all adventure. Even here, more than a mile away, the fishy, fatty stink of boiling lard and rotting flesh was sharp.

At a more than casual glance, the hunt and subsequent rendering of oil and meat was all that was happening in the vicinity of the cove, and it took Silva some careful study to spot the Japanese destroyer. “They’re bein’ damn sneaky about it too,” he murmured. “They’ve made their ship look like a beaver dam!” He closed the telescope. “That’s her, though.”

“How can you say so sure?” Lawrence hissed beside him. “You hadn’t seen her afore now.”

Dennis glared at his furry-feathery friend. “’Cause you can see her hull down by the waterline. That’s how I spotted her. There’s damage there, and believe me, if anybody can tell a hole made by a four-inch-fifty, it’s me.” Pam scrabbled up on her hands and knees to join them. “Well, why don’t
ever’body
just come on up?” Dennis griped. “Hell, we can wave flags an’ shoot rockets in the air!”

“If they haven’t already seen your big, giant ass, they ain’t gonna see me,” Pam snapped. “Gimme that!” She motioned for the glass.

“Okay, doll, but shade the lens with your hand. There’s ’Cats over there, remember? I doubt the Japs’ve made friends with ’em, but if they spot us, it might get others lookin’.” He scratched his moldy eye patch. “They’ve got a fair number o’ ’Cats doin’ their usual thing, but I wonder where they’re keepin’ the rest when they’re not workin’ on the rigs.” I’joorka had supplied them with the locations of all six oil wells, built very much like the Fort Worth Spudders the Allies used. Some of
Fristar
’s people had helped in the Baalkpan oilfields for a while and might’ve supplied the design, thinking the quicker they finished, the quicker they’d be free of their captors. Dennis had plotted the sites on a map he was making.

“Maybe we’ll find out soon,” Pam said, hopeful. Moe and his three remaining Marines had crept down to what Tony’s scouts had reported seemed like a kind of prison camp in the jungle near the water, east of the slaughtered Khonashi village. Labor continued at the wells night and day, but only a few hundred workers could possibly fit in the protective perimeters around the rigs, so perhaps a thousand Lemurians remained at the camp. Gunny Horn, once a prisoner of these very Japanese himself, suggested they probably kept them there as hostages against the good behavior of those on the great ship, as well as the laborers in the jungle. Some of Tony’s people had shown Moe’s little squad the way, and their objective was to make contact if possible and not only tell
Fristar
that aid was at hand, but also that the Khonashi
weren’t
Grik. No matter how well armed the Japanese were, Abel had theorized that only the fear of being overwhelmed by Grik could keep the ’Cats so docile under the Japanese. Dennis wasn’t so sure.
Fristar
remained under
Hidoiame
’s guns and was a powerfully restrictive hostage herself. But he conceded that whatever they decided to do, they needed to ensure that the people of
Fristar
would cooperate with the Khonashis, not run away—or try to kill them.

“There’s Japs,” Pam reported. “Workin’ on the ship. I see ’em movin’ now and then through the bushes and brush draped across her. But they’ve put up shelters past her, over in the trees too. Damn, they’ve
moved
whole trees! You can tell because they don’t look so good compared to the rest. Like they’re dyin’. Maybe they’re usin’ ’em like little cranes?”

“Here, gimme that back,” Dennis demanded. Pam handed the telescope over. “Huh. I think you’re right! Pretty smart. They
have
built cranes an’ scaffolds an’ all sorts o’ stuff outa livin’ trees.” He looked appraisingly at Pam. “Course, they ain’t as livin’ as the others. Good catch! For somebody whose eyes is so close together, yours seem to work okay!”

“Gee, thanks. Be still my flutterin’ heart!”

“Don’t mention it. Okay, Larry. Scoot on back an’ send misters Cook an’ Brassey up to have a look. We need ever’body with the same picture in their heads. When they shift back down, send I’joorka an’ Gunny Horn up—but make sure I’joorka’s pals keep an eye out behind us!”

Once everyone had observed the layout, they all pulled back to a well-hidden shelter in the jungle to await Moe’s return. An army of nearly three hundred Khonashis, of both races, had been gathering all day and I’joorka had assured them that the meeting place should be secure. The enemy no longer patrolled, he said. There were plenty of terrifying predators in the coastal jungle, but the unknown—and the Khonashis themselves—were more likely reasons why the Japanese relied on a perimeter defense and heavily armed squads to escort and protect their Lemurian workers and their worksites.

“King” Tony Scott and maybe a hundred more warriors joined them as the sun plunged from the sky and the mosquitoes and night creatures inherited the earth. He limped rather badly, but did move better than Silva expected with the aid of a rigid, split-bamboo brace encompassing the outside of his leg from his hip to his foot and ending in a shelflike sole for his foot to rest upon. Otherwise, the brace was secured by straps, and the top was fastened to a belt around his waist. Dennis doubted he’d walked all the way from his village, but he was moving pretty briskly now.

“So? What do you think?” Tony asked when he joined them under the shelter.

Abel looked at Silva, then turned back to Tony when the big man didn’t respond. “We’re, ah, still waiting for Sergeant Moe to report, but with your people’s description of the Jap perimeter, we’re gaining a good idea of the tactical challenge.” He motioned to Silva’s map, laid out on the ground. It was crudely drawn with charcoal on the flesh side of an animal skin, but the cove and its environs were unmistakable. “I think we’re agreed that our first priority is securing or destroying
Hidoiame
. Not only is she a threat to our Alliance, but she’s the Japs’ only hope. They can’t sustain themselves in this country forever, and they have to know that. All they want is to fuel her and leave.” Nearly everyone was nodding. “Take her away, and everything crashes down around them. Even if we can’t defeat them outright and never get outside help, the Japs will eventually realize they have no choice but to surrender or die. Everything we do must be geared toward getting a defensible force aboard
Hidoiame
!”

The nodding continued, and Abel’s voice firmed up. “At the same time, though, we have to rescue the Lemurians.” He noted a few mutters, but continued. “Think of it. If we capture
Hidoiame
, the Japs will certainly use their hostages to try to get her back!” He swallowed and looked directly at Tony Scott. “No matter what they do to them, that will never happen, I swear. But our secondary objective must be the prevention of atrocities against the prisoners! Besides, if Sergeant Moe is successful, we’ll be in a much better position to defeat the Japs completely if we add the Lemurian numbers to yours.” He frowned. “I’m quite sure they’ll be more than happy to kill their captors.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “But how do we
do
all that?”

Gunny Horn spoke up. “We know the Japs had a heavy crew to start with, after they abandoned the
Maru
.
Walker
probably killed some, but you said at least two hundred armed Japs killed the folks around here.”

“Two hundred or
more
—and there had to be some still on the ship.”

“At least an anchor watch,” Horn conceded, “but with crews on all her guns trained ashore and on
Fristar
. Let’s assume there’s three hundred and fifty of ’em. But they’re spread around. See? They’ve got this perimeter around their camp, guards at the well sites and the prison camp, and workers on the ship. Probably have at least a few guards on
Fristar
.” He pointed at the map. “The weak link’s the shore, right
at
the ship. They can’t be thick everywhere, and they’ve got no reason to think we
want
their damn ship! Even if they’re thicker close to her, they can’t stop a determined wedge of warriors”—he hoisted his BAR—“with a few modern weapons they don’t expect, runnin’ straight down their scrawny damn throats!”

I’joorka’s large eyes flicked back and forth at the map. “Yes, yes! Exce’t Khonashis attack all round at start, draw their thoughts!”

Silva looked at I’joorka with genuine respect. “A big diversion would be my very favorite thing about then.” He ruffled Lawrence’s crest. “How come you didn’t think of that? Are Tony’s lizards smarter than you?”

“I thought it too!” Lawrence defended, and there was a bizarre mixture of laughter. Silva looked back at I’joorka with a serious expression. “You know we been fightin’ Griks—folks that look a hell of a lot like some of you—for a long time.” It wasn’t a question, and I’joorka bowed his head. “Well, I just want to say that you Khonashis are right guys, in my book,” Silva finished.

Tony was grinning. “They really are, you know.”

There was a disturbance among the warriors gathered to hear, and Moe and one of his Marines stepped under the shelter. Both saluted, though Moe’s was a little awkward. “Gotta report, Mr. Cook,” Moe said.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Abel greeted him. “Was your mission successful?”

Moe blinked affirmative. “Aye. I sneaked into compound and talk to Anai-Sa hi’sef.” He spat. “Chikkinshit. But his Sky Priest and some warriors dat trained wit our Marines once was der, an’ dey listened up. I tole dem what was what an’ dey said dey’d rise up whenever we attack the goddamn Jaaps.” He paused. “Dey not in such good shape, though. Dey not been eatin’ good for long time.”

Horn swore. “Same ol’ Japs!”

“Where are your other Marines?” Abel asked.

Moe shrugged and blinked uncertainty. “I send dem to check wells. We was too many together for sneakin.’ I thought dey be here by now.”

“If they got captured . . .” Tony began.

Moe shook his head. “Dem boys not be captured. Dey maybe dead, but not captured.”

“Still,” Brassey said, “Whether captured or killed, the enemy may be on to us.”

“Jaaps not tell dey was
Marines
,” Moe objected. “Dey taked der swords an’ Khonashi spears, but leaved their rifles. Dey look jus like
Fristar
s.”

“That may not matter,” Horn said. “Even if the Japs think they were ’Cats escaping from the compound or one of the worksites, it might put ’em on their toes.”

Silva was nodding. “Then we have to attack tonight.
Now
. Like I always say, when in doubt, don’t just stand there;
do
somethin’. Let the bad guys worry what’s comin’ next. We better get to work.”

“I agree, but one thing remains,” Cook said, pointing at the map. “Here’s
Fristar
, moored near the center of the cove. We can’t signal her, since there’re bound to be Japanese aboard. We must get word to her, though, just as Sergeant Moe did at the camp.”

“How?” Scott demanded. “Why? The Japs ashore and their damn destroyer are our main concern. We take them out, and we’re done.”

“I think I see where Mr. Cook’s headed with this,” Pam said. “Whatever we do, most of our forces will look like
him
.” She motioned at I’joorka. “How do you think the Japs
and
Lemurians on
Fristar
’ll react to what they’ll think is a general Grik attack against everybody?
Fristar
has cannons. Remember?”

“Shit! Good point. But how can we get word to ’em?”

“Dennis can s’im out there!” Lawrence said enthusiastically.

“My ass! I ain’t swimmin’ out there! With all that gri-kakka cuttin’ goin’ on, that cove’s prob’ly got the thickest pack o’ flashies that ever was! Besides, I’m boardin’ the Jap can!” The last was not a request, but a statement of fact.

“You s’im in ’lashy ’ater once,” Lawrence persisted.

“Yeah!” Pam agreed. “When you jumped ship outa that ‘Buzzard’ that was supposed to bring you back to Baalkpan! What did you do?”

“I smeared grease on myself,” Silva answered reluctantly, “like ol’ Moe suggested once.”

“Dat worked?” Moe asked, amazed.

“You mean . . . Why, you fuzzy old bastard!”

“It doesn’t matter if it worked or not,” Abel interrupted. “We don’t have any grease.”

Tony Scott shifted. “Ah, yeah we do. Maybe. Sorta. There’s places around here where tar oozes up out of the ground. Always has, here and back home, both. You think smearin’ that on will keep the flashies away?”

Abel considered. “It might. It should. How far is it? We do need to get moving.”

“I ain’t swimmin’ out there!” Silva repeated defiantly.

“I’ll do it,” Stuart Brassey said, his voice a little uncertain but his expression set.

“I,” Abel started, then stopped when he saw Brassey’s face. He looked down. “Very well, Midshipman Brassey.” He looked at Tony. “Mr. . . . King Scott, can Mr. Brassey ask your people for volunteers to accompany him?”

“Holy shit. Sure, I guess. Swimmin’ with flashies? Goddamn!” Tony looked at Stuart. “You got more guts than I do, kid.”