point, rigging a pair of short masts out of spare topmasts, but the only canvas she had yet was a shortened course and a couple of staysails. It took a little strain off Donaghey, but the staysails on both ships, while necessary, were pushing them farther to leeward-ever closer to shore.
Together in the wardroom, beneath the light of a swaying lantern, Garrett and Saaran scrutinized the charts they’d worked so hard on, throughout their deployment. With sinking hearts, they realized that no matter how they calculated it, Donaghey couldn’t clear the southern coast of Ceylon with Tolson in tow. Realistically, it was almost certainly too late for Donaghey to make it alone.
“So that’s it,” Garrett said as quietly as he could over the wind, the tumult of labor on deck, and the increasing noises of the working ship. He took a deep breath and looked at Saaran almost helplessly. “What now?”
Saaran scratched the fur on his forehead. “The sea is rising, and so is the tide. If we have no choice but to run ashore, perhaps we can choose where we do it.”
“What difference will that make?”
“If we are not forced ashore among jagged rocks, but drive ashore at high tide, on a soft, sandy beach…”
“We let the wind and heavy sea carry us as far up on the beach as it can,” Garrett interrupted with dawning hope.
“Yes,” Saaran continued, “and the flashies will not be active in the nighttime shallows, particularly with the sea running high.”
Greg nodded. “If the ships don’t break, and we make it until low tide, we off-load the ship’s guns, supplies… If we fort up, maybe make it to some better ground… we might have a chance.”
“A slim chance,” Saaran agreed, “if we can hold until rescued.” He met Garrett’s eyes and blinked determination. “And if we can’t hold that long… at least we will die killing Grik.” Saaran coughed a laugh. “We may be a bug with no legs falling in an ant mound, but we do still have our teeth!”
Greg blinked back in the Lemurian way. “Pass the word. We’ll have to coordinate with Russ on Tolson; keep our ships as close together as we can, when we make our run in.” He sighed. “I’d better get Clancy to inform HQ.” He smiled and shook his head. “God help us.”
CHAPTER 2
Aboard USNRS (United States Naval Reserve Ship) Salissa (CV-1) First Fleet HQ, Andaman Island
Pete Alden, once a sergeant in doomed USS Houston’ s Marine contingent on another earth, and now General of the Marines and All Allied Armies, looked at the message form in his hand with a sick, sinking feeling. It had been given him by an intensely staring, silver-shot, brownish red Lemurian, who sat perched on a decorative stool like a brooding bear, his long tail swishing in agitation behind him. The Lemurian was “Ahd-mi-raal” Keje-Fris-Ar, overall commander of First Fleet, and all Allied forces in the West, or CINCWEST. Keje had grown more (outwardly, at least) unflappable as the war went on, but he was clearly concerned about the contents of the message.
Alden spent several moments reading it, absorbing the implications. Keje’s unease was well founded. “Goddamn,” he said flatly. “Tolson, Donaghey, and Revenge all survive a giant Grik bomb, then Revenge gets sunk by a fish!” He shook his head. “I swear, every time we try to throw a normal war around here, and it looks like something might finally be going our way, it all drops in the pot.”
Keje scratche his reddish brown furry ears, and nodded grimly. “So it seems. So it always seems. But bad as that is, the implication of Mr. Garrett’s report is even more troubling than it first appears. Without coming right out and saying so, his evaluation of the current, tide, and prevailing winds, coupled with his position, suggests a real possibility Donaghey and Tolson might well be driven upon enemy shores! By the Heavens above! With the crew of Revenge aboard, there are more than a thousand souls on those ships! Somehow we must assist them!”
“Do you think they’ll go ashore?” Alden asked.
Keje held out his hands. He’d taken on many human mannerisms, just as humans had reciprocated. “Much depends on the damage to Donaghey, and whether it can be repaired in time. Honestly, I’m not hopeful. By the description, Tolson is helpless, and I cannot imagine Mr. Garrett abandoning her even if he could.”
Pete was shaking his head. “Greg won’t deliberately sacrifice his ship and crew. He’ll take as many off as he can and cut Tolson loose if he has to. He knows the stakes, and they all knew the risk of blockade duty in those seas. They volunteered.”
Keje blinked. “I agree Mr. Garrett would not deliberately sacrifice his people, but I know the man’s character as well as you, I think. He’ll do everything in his power to save Tolson, and he might try too hard, too long. With much of the crew of Revenge aboard already, he’ll be hard-pressed to get everyone off Tolson. If he takes any, he will feel compelled to take them all.” Keje shook his head. “I fear they will go ashore. We must plan as if they will, regardless.”
An insistent knocking in the passageway interrupted them. “Enter,” Keje said distractedly. Marine Captain Risa-Sab-At, commander of Salissa’ s Marine contingent, led General Lord Muln Rolak and GeneralQueen Protector Safir Maraan into the compartment.
“Is it true?” asked the old, scarred General Rolak. “We hear Revenge has sunk and the rest of Gaarrett’s squadron is in distress!”
“Word sure travels fast,” Pete observed.
“It does,” confirmed Safir Maraan. As usual, she was resplendent in her silver-washed armor that contrasted so strikingly with her almost blue-black fur, but so complemented her flashing silver eyes. “Every ship in the fleet has a receiver after all, and besides, as large as Salissa Home is, she is not nearly large enough to frustrate anything so powerful as the ‘scuttlebutt,’ as Amer-i-caans say.”
“I asked you here to tell you this news myself,” Keje said, “but as usual, I suppose the scuttlebutt has its place-so long as it does not distort. I dislike keeping secrets from our people. I doubt the general nature of the information you received could have fully conveyed the implications of this tragedy, however.”
“The blockade is broken,” Rolak said, “and surely we must extend whatever assistance we can.”
“Surely,” Keje agreed, “but USS Tassat is already nearly back here from mapping potential points of attack. We have absolutely nothing close by to send.”
“Dreadful news indeed,” Queen Maraan said. “Is there nothing we can do?”
“We’re obliged to think of something,” Keje said. “Obviously, we must rescue them from the terrible end they face at the hands of the Grik, but also, honestly, they know too much to be taken. anguage barrier might once have provided some protection for us and our plans-if not for our poor people the Grik might capture. But now we know many Grik ‘Hij,’ their ‘elevated’ class, at least read and write the ‘scientific tongue’-and the Jaaps have told them we use it. There may even be Jaaps on Saa-lon and… well, we know they communicate with the enemy-and some speak ‘Amer-i-caan.’ ”
“We must rescue them!” Rolak agreed.
“Yeah,” Pete said, “but what Keje’s getting at is that we can’t just send a ship or two, since the Grik’ll probably pull out all the stops to get our guys. A rescue will take a lot of resources; air recon to find the ships, or air strikes to keep the Grik off the survivors, for example. We’d hoped to keep those resources-particularly the planes- secret until we’re ready for the big show.”
“General Alden is right,” Keje declared. “Certainly that is part of what I was getting at, but there’s another element.” He paused. “We planned to begin offensive operations against Saa-lon and Indi-aa within weeks, depending on the weather and the arrival of Arracca‘ s battle group. The weather is currently less than ideal for combat operations, but it should soon improve. If we don’t wait for Arracca, however, Salissa’ s battle group can sail by late day tomorrow. Geran-Eras affirms that her Humfra-Dar battle group can likewise be ready. Arracca’ s group could arrive here, refuel, and join us at the objective within a week or two of our arrival there. My question to you generals is whether the ground forces can be embarked and prepared by then.”
“By tomorrow afternoon? Now wait just a second, Admiral,” Pete said. “Are you proposing we set out with the whole damn fleet on the biggest operation of the war, and invade, willy-nilly, wherever the hell our damaged ships wash up? That’s nuts! We don’t have any known strategic ‘objective’ right now for Arracca to join us at. All the planning and preparation we’ve spent months on would go up in smoke! Alan Letts just got here, after surviving
