Authors: Taylor Anderson
Firestorm (31 page)
“An’ the whales didn’t get ’em, ’cause the whales would be chikkin,
To face things I have seen here, that’s for sure!”
It was nonsense, but Lelaa chuckled in her throaty way. She’d tried to be strict with Silva that day, but didn’t think she’d succeeded. She couldn’t help it. She hated the big ridiculous brute . . . and adored him. He’d saved her life and avenged
Simms
, and done so many other things, but as Sandra said, he
was
depraved. Whatever else he’d done to get aboard
Maaka-Kakja
, he’d abandoned Paam Cross, a female who was devoted to him, for some reason. And even Lelaa occasionally speculated what exactly there was between him and Risa-Sab-At. . . . But the song amused her. She didn’t know what a “chikkin” was, but “whales” were something like mountain fish . . . she thought.
Simms
, and done so many other things, but as Sandra said, he
was
depraved. Whatever else he’d done to get aboard
Maaka-Kakja
, he’d abandoned Paam Cross, a female who was devoted to him, for some reason. And even Lelaa occasionally speculated what exactly there was between him and Risa-Sab-At. . . . But the song amused her. She didn’t know what a “chikkin” was, but “whales” were something like mountain fish . . . she thought.
Oh, we won’t go back to Subic anymore,
Oh, we won’t go back to Subic anymore!
Oh, we won’t go back to Subic, we drink seep instead of tubic!
Oh, we won’t go back to Subic anymore!
Orrin had harmonized quite nicely with Silva on that verse. Lelaa liked songs with harmony. She could see the growing musical throng much better than Orrin could see his page, and noticed Gilbert Yeager standing off to the side. He’d attempted some of those last words, and she was stunned to see tears streaking his face. She didn’t understand. The song sounded like others she’d heard hu-maans sing with mirth.
Oooh! The birdies ain’t real birdies in Maa-ni-la!
Instead of feathers—they have teeth and fur!
Some are green and blue, and they eat each other too!
. . . an’ I can’t make up nothin’ that rhymes with furrr!
Those in the crowd laughed and stamped their feet, but Gilbert was gone.
Oooh, we lived ten thousand years in old Chefoo,
The Japs got it, and then Caveetee too!
I wouldn’t give a fart for a piece of either part,
But I’ll make ’em rot in hell before I’m throooo!
Lelaa realized Colonel Shinya was beside her in the dark. “You are a ‘Jaap,’ as they say, yes?”
“Yes.”
“You had a war, on your world. Do Amer-i-caans really hate you that much?” She paused. “Does Silva?”
Shinya hesitated. “Some do, even here. Even now. There was . . . unpleasantness. I never witnessed anything like what Commander Okada saw, perpetrated by either side, but ‘my’ war with the Americans was different . . . earlier. I cannot say how things would have gone had the war continued as it was when I . . . left it, but it was ugly enough already. And there were rumors of things happening in China. If the tide truly has turned as Okada says, it’s possible things have become as ugly as they are here.” He sighed. “But I don’t think Silva hates me, not anymore.” Unconsciously, he blinked irony in the Lemurian way. “We’re on the same side now, are we not?”
“His song might leave some doubt, and he sings it to my People.” Lelaa shook her head. “I am ‘Amer-i-caan’ now, in the Na-vee clan, but I don’t hate Jaaps. I hope my people don’t come to.”
“American songs are almost meaningless,” he assured her. “This one more than most.”
Lelaa looked at Shinya. “Okada
must
stop the rogue destrer, or you may end up mistaken.”
must
stop the rogue destrer, or you may end up mistaken.”
CHAPTER 11
Southeast Coast of Africa
I
t was blustery, wet, and very cold. Lieutenant Toryu Miyata stood forlornly on the soggy sand with his two companions, Aguri and Umito. Wrapped in damp fur coats, they were watching the Grik longboat struggle back through the heavy breakers they’d just barely—in Toryu’s view—survived. He’d longed to escape the Grik, and the mission he’d embarked upon had seemed a good opportunity at the time, but the journey so far had been a hellish experience. And it had only begun.
t was blustery, wet, and very cold. Lieutenant Toryu Miyata stood forlornly on the soggy sand with his two companions, Aguri and Umito. Wrapped in damp fur coats, they were watching the Grik longboat struggle back through the heavy breakers they’d just barely—in Toryu’s view—survived. He’d longed to escape the Grik, and the mission he’d embarked upon had seemed a good opportunity at the time, but the journey so far had been a hellish experience. And it had only begun.
The “Cape of Storms” on this world had apparently earned its name for the same reason as the one “back home.” Not only was it so designated on the ancient, stolen charts, but the storms were even more intense and constant. The Grik didn’t believe any ship could round the cape, or even steer too close, and the world beyond was unknown to them. Toryu supposed that was one good thing. The only charts they’d captured intact from the long-dead British Indiamen showed only the coast of Africa and Madagascar. The Grik had been forced to earn their knowledge of other places.
Because of that, the transport that brought his little expedition had set them ashore far short of their destination. They’d have to trek overland across unknown and probably hostile country long before they could deliver General of the Sea Kurokawa’s note to the strangers of this land. The Grik had a few frontier outposts to the north, and the “others” apparently maintained their own to the southwest. Toryu would have to cross the “no-man’s-land” between them—and he hadn’t even escaped the Grik. There were six Uul warriors along, and a low-level Hij—probably a lieutenant or something—named Bashg. He was to command them, interpret General Esshk’s orders, and generally “lead” the expedition.
Ordinarily, Toryu believed he’d have killed Bashg and as many Uul as he could as soon as they arrived. He and his friends had discussed that very thing: kill their captors and flee to the mercy of the “others.” Toryu and Aguri each had a precious Arisaka rifle and fifty rounds of ammunition. Umito had a Grik crossbow that had been fitted to him. The problem was, Bashg and his troops weren’t “ordinary” Grik. They were some kind of “elite” Grik trained by Niwa and Halik before they left for Ceylon. Bashg was imperious and rude and probably not much of an “officer” to have been given this assignment, but his troops displayed an alarming level of awareness compared to other Uul Toryu had seen. They also carried guns.
The guns weren’t really that threatening, particularly under the circumstances. They were essentially simple Japanese matchlocks formed to fit Grik physiques. Easy to produce, they were the most foolproof firearms Kurokawa and the surviving Japanese engineers could—or would?—give the Grik. They weren’t terrible weapons, but they were useless in wet air. Toryu doubted they were even loaded. Their matches certainly weren’t lit.
No, the guns weren’t the issue. These Grik also carried swords, of course, and truly were superior warriors. Two Arisakas and a crossbow might not be fast enough. They also had a long way to go, through dangerous country. They’d need the Grik to defend them and carry their supplies—at least for a while.
“I can’t believe they made it back through the breakers,” Aguri said, referring to the longboat. Toryu couldn’t see it anymore, but Aguri was taller.
“A shame,” managed Umito, but he paid for his words with a racking cough that sounded deep and wrenching. Toryu looked at him with concern. The cough had begun during the wet voyage south, then west. They couldn’t stand being belowdecks on the Grik ship—the stench was simply too great—and they’d slept exposed on the cold, damp deck.
“Come,” snarled Bashg in his own tongue. The three of them had been chosen for the mission partly because of their ability to understand some Grik and speak some English, which Bashg could sometimes grasp. “Get things. We go!” Bashg wrapped his own fur coat more tightly around himself. “Sooner we go, sooner we done! Get back to warm!”
Toryu and Aguri slung their rifles and headed for their packs. Another coughing fit from Umito made them look back. He straightened, shaking, still staring out to sea. The Grik ship that brought them was piling on sail, beginning to slant away to the north, northeast. Leaving them behind.
“You get you sick man moving!” Bashg warned. “He make slow, we eat him!”
Toryu rounded on Bashg. “I’ll kill any of you who tries! The rest of you might kill us, but then where will you be? Who’ll deliver the message to the ‘others’? Your mission will fail and Esshk will give you the ‘Traitor’s Death’!”
Bashg stared hard at Toryu, then at Aguri who’d stepped forward as well, but his hand never neared his sword. “All well,” he said at last. “We no eat. He make slow, we carry. We only eat if he die.”
Umito joined them, walking slow, taking quick shallow breaths. “Thanks, Toryu,” he whispered raggedly. “I’ll be fine once we get out of here.”
Toryu nodded, trying not to show how much he was shaking with fury and terror. He feared Umito
wouldn’t
be fine, but even then there was no way he’d stand by and see him eaten. He suspected that would be when, one way or the other, he’d part company with the Grik.
Colombo, Grik Ceylonwouldn’t
be fine, but even then there was no way he’d stand by and see him eaten. He suspected that would be when, one way or the other, he’d part company with the Grik.
General Halik lounged on Tsalka’s old throne in the regency palace, staring at a map of the island. He was exhausted, and if he noticed N’galsh’s indignation over his usurpation of what the vice regent considered
his
“chair” in Tsalka’s absence, he made no sign, and N’galsh didn’t speak it aloud. General Orochi Niwa stood by the map, doubtless just as tired, but unwilling to sit as he pointed out various places along the southern coast.
his
“chair” in Tsalka’s absence, he made no sign, and N’galsh didn’t speak it aloud. General Orochi Niwa stood by the map, doubtless just as tired, but unwilling to sit as he pointed out various places along the southern coast.
“The enemy has landed here, here, and here,” he said, “in impressive force. I imagine, combined, they have even greater numbers than we faced at Baalkpan, and their discipline and disposition are proportionately superior as well.” He paused. “And, of course, they’re better equipped.” His tone carried what Halik had come to recognize as genuine admiration. “They’ve built a
real
army, with uniform armor, accoutrements, and apparently, large numbers of standardized muskets,” he enthused. “Not to mention their many steam-powered warships!”
real
army, with uniform armor, accoutrements, and apparently, large numbers of standardized muskets,” he enthused. “Not to mention their many steam-powered warships!”
“Or their flying machines,” Halik added darkly.
Niwa nodded, becoming more solemn. “Indeed. Honestly, I suspected they might have created some aircraft, but the numbers, sophistication, and frankly, skill with which they were employed, came as a complete surprise.” He shook his head. “That, and their ability to transport them here in the first place. I
never
expected aircraft carriers!” His admiration returut his expression was thoughtful. “We must consider the enemy airpower in every plan we make. Consolidation will be difficult, and we must use the terrain and jungle to best advantage. We’ll have to move carefully and employ misdirection whenever possible, because whatever we do might be observed. We must also find some way to combat these aircraft—shoot them down!”
never
expected aircraft carriers!” His admiration returut his expression was thoughtful. “We must consider the enemy airpower in every plan we make. Consolidation will be difficult, and we must use the terrain and jungle to best advantage. We’ll have to move carefully and employ misdirection whenever possible, because whatever we do might be observed. We must also find some way to combat these aircraft—shoot them down!”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” Niwa replied honestly. “Perhaps if we lure them low enough, into a specific, pretargeted place, we might have some success with even field artillery, loaded with canister—they
are
rather slow.” He shook his head, still considering. “Perhaps something else . . .” He looked at Halik. “We must pass word of these developments to General of the Sea Kurokawa—and General Esshk at once! The enemy will certainly move to blockade us again, in greater force than ever before!”
are
rather slow.” He shook his head, still considering. “Perhaps something else . . .” He looked at Halik. “We must pass word of these developments to General of the Sea Kurokawa—and General Esshk at once! The enemy will certainly move to blockade us again, in greater force than ever before!”
“That has already been ordered. All remaining ships in Colombo except our own ‘escape squadron’ will dash out this very night under cover of darkness. Perhaps some will get through.” Halik studied the map again. “The enemy concentrations are slightly isolated from one another. How will they proceed, and can we use that?”
“It will be difficult,” Niwa confessed. “We didn’t expect landings where they occurred, and it will take us time to deploy in response.” He shook his head. “I doubt
they
intended to land where they did, but it’s turned out fortuitous for them, in the short term. They’ll likely consolidate as they advance, and we’ll have to watch for opportunities. There’s nothing we can do against their beachheads—oh, if we had planes of our own!—so their strength will build behind them. But they have far to go, and we should seize numerous chances to bleed them as they move.” He rubbed sore muscles in his neck. “We must have a care, however. They may retain reserves, make further landings. They can watch what we do and take advantage.”
they
intended to land where they did, but it’s turned out fortuitous for them, in the short term. They’ll likely consolidate as they advance, and we’ll have to watch for opportunities. There’s nothing we can do against their beachheads—oh, if we had planes of our own!—so their strength will build behind them. But they have far to go, and we should seize numerous chances to bleed them as they move.” He rubbed sore muscles in his neck. “We must have a care, however. They may retain reserves, make further landings. They can watch what we do and take advantage.”
Halik blinked. “But what if we use this ‘misdirection’ you mentioned to lure them into committing those reserves, or some force, where they only
think
we are weak?” He drummed his claws on the arm of the throne, sitting up. “They have already shown an aversion to losses, a desire to rescue those who are doomed. If we strike a mighty blow somewhere they do not expect, might it not delay their advance? Cause confusion? Doubt?”
think
we are weak?” He drummed his claws on the arm of the throne, sitting up. “They have already shown an aversion to losses, a desire to rescue those who are doomed. If we strike a mighty blow somewhere they do not expect, might it not delay their advance? Cause confusion? Doubt?”
“That . . . is possible. They do cherish the lives of their warriors more than we,” Niwa said with irony.
Halik let it pass. He already knew Niwa disliked the wanton waste of Uul. So did Halik, for that matter; he’d been one. There still existed a difference between them regarding the definition of “wanton,” however. “We fight for time,” he declared. “Time is our ally, possibly more than theirs. With time, we might match their marvels and even their warriors. Kurokawa and General Esshk would surely rather employ our own new wonders here than on sacred ground if we can hold this place long enough for them to do so decisively.”
Actually, Niwa believed Kurokawa wouldn’t, but he couldn’t stall Esshk—or more particularly Tsalka—if Ceylon held out, especially if Halik won a few victories. N’galsh would doubtless have stressed that proposition in the dispatches he sent with the blockade runners. “A stunning victory might give us the time you seek,” he conceded at last.
“Good,” said Halik. “Instead of attempting to oppose the enemy everywhere, we will concentrate all our thoughts on devising a strategy to crush a portion of his force so unexpectedly and thoroughly as to give him
pectedli> everywhere . . . and then we shall see.”
pectedli> everywhere . . . and then we shall see.”
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