Distant Thunders (48 page)

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Authors: Taylor Anderson

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For a long moment, Matt could say nothing. The expression on his face must have told something of the nature of the tale, however, because the shouts and accusations in the wardroom ceased entirely and the only sounds came from the groaning hull, the confused sea, and the moaning storm outside. A rage as pure and hot and black as boiling pitch roiled up inside him as he reread the stilted words. They’d taken Sandra! That was all that registered at first. That maniac Billingsly had taken the one thing he truly cared about on this entire, mixed-up planet! No, that wasn’t completely true. He cared about many things; he cared about their friends and the work they’d started here. He cared about the war and defeating the Grik so their friends and works might thrive. He cared about Rebecca, Sister Audry, Abel, and even Silva . . . but almost from the beginning, it had always been Sandra who gave him the strength and will to continue in the face of . . . anything. With her love, understanding, and healing way, she’d been the one who brought him back from the brink of despair when he lost his ship. She’d tended his battered, bleeding soul and restored it to something that
could
care again despite the horrors and agonies it had seen and endured. He couldn’t lose her! She had become his life! When all was said and done, ultimately, she was
why
he carried on.
As God is my witness
, he swore fervently to himself,
I’ll have you back, Sandra! And those who have done this, no matter who they are or where it takes me, are going to
pay
!
He flung the sheet at Jenks, who picked it up and started to read. Matt waited a moment longer until he was sure he could control his voice. “Mr. Clancy,” he said at last, “write this down.” His tone was calm, but iron hard. Clancy fumbled through his notebook until he found a blank page and poised his pencil. “From Matt Reddy, et cetera, to Adar, et cetera. No shame. Even the best hunter can step on a viper.” He paused to decide if the analogy was appropriate. Oddly, there were no snakes on Borneo that they knew of. There were deadly poisonous lizards however, and he’d heard them translated and referred to as vipers before—once in reference to Jenks himself, come to think of it. He nodded and continued, thinking hard as he spoke. “I want tankers sent out
today
from the new refinery at Tarakan Island. Use every available ship. We’re going to start stockpiling fuel on Mindanao at Saan-Kakja’s brother’s place. Lots of it. We’ll probably leapfrog it east of there as well. Meanwhile, if the Baalkpan tank batteries can’t be repaired, we’ll start a reserve at the refinery dock up the river, if we have to. I don’t care if we have to fill Grik hulks with the stuff. We took enough ships today to make up any supply issues that might arise.” He paused and Jenks tried to speak. “Shut up,” Matt said, and turned back to Clancy.
“No matter what, we still have to keep the pressure up out here. Baalkpan is to redouble its efforts to get all the steamers, troops, supplies—everything—to Singapore as fast as possible. Keje’s got to step on it too. We need
Big Sal
and her planes to scout if nothing else. Finally”—he paused again and took a deep breath—“if Spanky honestly doesn’t think
Walker
will be ready to steam ten thousand miles and fight a battle within thirty days, I want all work on her suspended. We don’t have the time to waste resources on her.”
Everyone in the compartment was flabbergasted. Most still had no idea what had occurred, but if Matt was willing to write
Walker
off, it must have been something . . . astonishing. Sensing Captain Reddy’s sudden hostility toward the Imperial, Garrett snatched the message form from him.
“General Rolak? I want Chack and a company of the Second Marines,” Matt said.
Rolak glanced at the hull and, by implication, the storm outside.
“Now, lord?”
“Right now.” He looked at Clancy. “As soon as we’re finished here, anyway. Signal ’em to be ready, if you can.” Glancing at Garrett, he saw the rage and astonishment begin to spread across his face. “I love the old
Donaghey
, but she’s helpless right now,” he said, still talking to Clancy. “Signal Mr. Ellis on
Dowden
and have her come alongside as close as he dares. Somebody wake up the Bosun and assemble the Captain’s Guard. When
Dowden
arrives, we’re going across. We’ll try to swoop in close to the dock and pick up Chack’s Marines.”
“What are we going to
do
about this, Skipper?” Garrett demanded.
Matt’s gaze finally fell on Jenks. “First, we’re going to take that bastard’s ship.”
There was an uproar then, with everyone grabbing for the message form and shouting for explanations.
“Enough!” Matt bellowed, and when there was silence, he calmly summed up the situation.
Sensing his position was precarious at best, Jenks cleared his throat. “Captain Reddy, may I speak now?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“Captain . . .” Jenks’s hand encompassed all present. “Gentlemen, I assure you that none of you is more shocked and horrified by this outrage than I. I swear before God that Commander Billingsly has acted not only independently of, but utterly against my direct orders!” He faced Captain Reddy. “Think upon it, sir! We were upon that field together today! Think upon what we discussed! Think of the
blood
that was shed by my countrymen! I accept that it may have been shed foolishly, and that is for me to bear, but it is no less precious or sacred for all my pride! Upon
that blood
I swear I am sincere!”
O’Casey balled his single fist and took a step forward. “Sincere, are ye? How sincere were ye when ye crushed me effort tae destroy the likes o’ Billingsly long ago?”

You took up arms against the throne!
” Jenks shouted. “What was I to
do
? I fancy we were friends once, you and I. The governor-emperor himself called you friend! He tried—
I
tried to make you see reason, to seek accommodation, but
no
! It has always been all or nothing with you! We could have pushed the Company back, reined it in, but you had to have it
all
; you wanted it
dead
! Instead, by
your
actions, your
rebellion
, you won sympathy for their cause! It was
you
who gave them a majority in both courts and marginalized the governor-emperor to near impotence! It is you, ultimately, who has brought us to
this
!”
O’Casey took another step, but instead of striking Jenks, he suddenly seemed to deflate. It was as if years of self-righteous anger and purpose just drained away and left nothing in its wake. Nothing but a man. He began to sob. “Oh, ye divil, ye prob’ly have the right o’ it!” he managed through his tears. “God damn me fer a fool! An’ now the very beast I’d hoped ta slay has our sweet princess! God
damn
me!”
Jenks’s hand seemed to strain to comfort the big man, but didn’t reach quite far enough. “No,” he said softly. “God damn
me
. You were right all along, as it turns out. The Company
is
a beast to spawn men like Billingsly. I doubt now that we could have controlled it in the end, regardless. Damn
me
for not joining your cause!”
Stiffly, Jenks faced Captain Reddy. “You have my surrender, sir, and that of my ship.” He fumbled at his side for his sword. “I will not fight you. As that note will attest, your people and mine would seem to be at war.
My God
, but this is a stupid, terrible world we live in! In any event, your people are clearly the aggrieved party and I will require none of those under my command to shed their blood in defense of the actions of a lunatic. Or a nation gone mad.”
Matt shook his head, as if to clear it. Too much too fast! “Keep your sword, Commodore Jenks,” he said at last. “It would seem I’m not at war with
you
after all. But I’m kind of like O’Casey, or Bates, or whoever he is, in one respect: all or nothing. From now on, you’re on our side all or nothing, and we’re on yours the same way. We’re still taking some of the Second Marines aboard
Achilles
, though, you and I. If there’s anyone you or anyone you trust even
suspects
of being a Company spy, they’ll be sent back here to
Donaghey
’s brig.”
Matt looked at Clancy. “Make those signals now, if you please.” He turned to Rolak. “Commodore Ellis will assume overall command here until Keje arrives with the rest of the fleet. At that point, Keje will assume strategic command, but you and General Alden will still command the ground troops. Jim will be Keje’s exec and chief of staff. Standing orders are and will remain to keep up the pressure on the Grik. Stay focused
here,
on the job that’s
here
, and push the bastards any way you can. Follow the plan, but stay flexible; the ability to do that has always been our biggest advantage.”
“But . . . of course, lord. But where will you be?”
Matt jerked his chin at Jenks. “I’m going home. With him.”
CHAPTER 20
R
ain battered Adar’s Great Hall, where the grim meeting was under way. The air was dank and musty with the smell of wet fur and burning gri-kakka oil. A broad, hand-drawn map covered a large table in the gloom, and all the major leaders of the Alliance were gathered around it. All who weren’t absent or taken from them, at least. Kathy McCoy stood in for Sandra and Karen Theimer Letts. Karen had taken the news of the abductions hard, and with her increasingly difficult pregnancy nearing its peak, Alan had convinced her to let him put her on light duty.
“But surely they’re not coming
now
,” sputtered Geran-Eras, high chief of
Humfra-Dar
Home.
Humfra-Dar
had been with the Alliance almost from the first, and Geran, the first female High Chief the Americans had known before they met Saan-Kakja, was particularly fond of Matt. Now young Tassana was a High Chief too, and she nodded agreement with Geran’s concern.
“It is madness to ride the Strakka!”
Adar nodded miserably. “I fear Captain Reddy has gone quite mad—in that dangerous, special way we have all come to recognize—and it is my fault!”
“Bullshit,” Spanky growled. “For the last time, Adar, it ain’t your fault! And Captain Reddy hasn’t gone mad, he’s just mad as hell. I am too—we all are.” He paused, watching the nods. “I don’t know what kind of seaman Jenks is, but the captain’s not going to let him goof around and get them sunk, either.
Achilles
might take a beating, but she’s running with the storm. My bet is they just get here faster.”
“Your confidence is reassuring,” Adar said, “both in Captain Reddy and myself.” He sighed. “But what of these other issues? What of
Walker
?”
It was Spanky’s turn to sigh. “We’ll have her ready,” he said simply. “As much as she means to you, she means even more to me. I’m not about to give up on the old girl now. Besides, the skipper’s going to need her.”
“What remains to be done?” Keje asked.
“About a million things,” Spanky admitted, “but we’re already working on most of them. If we just quit, the guys working on that stuff will waste a lot of time twiddling their thumbs before they can get up to speed on other projects anyway.” He held up his hand, counting off on his fingers. “Just about everything on
Walker
runs on one twenty DC. That’s what we’ve standardized all our industry for. Even if we hadn’t rebuilt her little generators, we could probably stick one of our homemade jobs in her. We’re still soaking her AC generator, the one she needs for the gyro and a few other things, but we’re almost done with it too.”
They’d discovered yet
another
use for the ubiquitous polta fruit and the seemingly endless applications to which it lent itself. In this instance, the fermented form of the juice that became the popular intoxicant seep would turn to a variety of vinegar if its ultimate journey toward becoming the curative polta paste was interrupted. They’d made diluted vinegar baths for the generators and other electrical equipment to deoxidize the nonferrous components. The solution was weak enough that it did that nicely without unduly attacking the ferrous parts. This rendered the assemblies clean and corrosion-free for their ultimate disassembly and restoration.
“Thank God at least the gyro itself was dry,” Spanky added. He nodded at Rodriguez. “Ronson and his EMs have been running all over the ship, refurbishing distribution panels, breakers, switches, and all that magical electrical shit. Act like a buncha spiders spinnin’ wires everywhere instead of webs.”
Rodriguez arched his eyebrows, which matched his Pancho Villa mustache quite well. “Come into my parlor,” he said, in a passable Bela Lugosi imitation.
Spanky rolled his eyes, but inwardly he was satisfied. Like all of them, Ronson Rodriguez had come a long way. “Hull and structural damage was repaired before we refloated her,” he continued. “Her turbines ain’t new, or anything like it, but they’re in at least as good a shape as they were when she went down. We hadn’t been able to do proper maintenance on ’em in forever, so we still had plenty of spare seals and bearings and such. For them, at least. Numbers three and four boilers
are
practically new. Completely rebuilt and clean as a whistle inside and out.” He shook his head. “Those Mice . . . Anyway, we’re starting on number three. I wanted to put a new boiler where number one used to be, one that
could
burn something besides oil if it had to, but I guess she’s still going to need that extra fuel capacity after all. We’ll get started on a new, better bunker in there. Thanks to Letts’s gaskets, her steam lines are tight as a drum. We’re still having trouble with the steering engine, but we’ll get it sorted out.”
“That is all very well,” Keje said. “She can float and she can steam, but what will she fight with, at need?” Spanky looked at Campeti to answer.
“Uh, well, there’s good news and bad news. The numbers one, two, and three four-inch fifties are ready to go back aboard. Even made a new, thicker splinter shield for number one outta Jap steel.” He looked at Rodriguez. “Your guys’ll have to wire ’em in to the gun director, which, thank God, never even got wet.” Rodriguez nodded and Campeti went on. “The number four gun and the three incher on the fantail are practically junk. We can save the tubes and breeches, but that’s about it. No way can they be ready in thirty days. Same with the torpedo tubes and mounts—not that we have anything to stick in ’em. Three and four were already gone. We can make the number one triple mount work now, if we swipe parts from number two, but without torpedoes, what’s the point? I say we leave ’em off for now and fix ’em at our leisure. Who knows? Maybe someday we’ll have some torps.

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