the longest flight in the history of this world, most likely, in one of those new three-engine, up-size ‘Nancy’ kites Mallory dreamed up. They had to land and refuel I don’t know how many times in some of the creepiest places imaginable…”
“It was your idea to establish those fueling depots,” Safir pointed out.
“So? We need ’em. But Letts is kind of… delicate-and he’s a brand-new father. He’s also the closest thing to a real logistics guy we have. He volunteered to leave a cushy berth and come out here to help us straighten out the kind of screwed-up mess we had at Rangoon. If that happens on Ceylon, we could lose everything! He needs time to do what he came here for, and damn it, we need him to do it! If we don’t even know where we’re going and what to do when we get there, it’ll be a logistical nightmare, and even Letts won’t be able to save us.”
“But you have been working on ‘logistics.’ So have the executive officers of all the ships. Progress has been made. I’ve seen it,” Rolak said.
“Sure, we’ve made progress on the basics, but it takes a guy like Letts to figure out all the angles nobody else ever thinks about-stuff we might need in any situation. Thanks to Rolak’s pet Grik, we actually have a rough map of Ceylon. We know where their troop concentrations and population centers are, and we’ve been making our landing plans based on that. If we just go ashore at some arbitrary place, without a plan, it’ll be a circus.”
Keooked at Alden for several moments, contemplating. Finally, he sighed. “There is no choice, General Alden. We must prepare as if the fleet will move tomorrow. You have already designed multiple plans for various landing sites. Perhaps we can modify one of those.”
“But…” Alden began, but Keje held up his hand.
“You still think in terms of your old war,” he said, “when all things happened so very quickly. You’ll have sufficient time to form or revise a plan. Consider: Saa-lon is more than a thousand of your ‘miles’ from here. The fleet can move only as quickly as its slowest ship, and many of our transports rely entirely on sails, so we cannot count on more than an eight- or ten-knot average. The voyage will take five, perhaps six days. We should have communications with Donaghey at least until she is driven ashore-if she is-so we’ll have a good estimate of her position.” He paused again. “If the worst happens, it will likely occur late tonight or early tomorrow. That should leave you sufficient time to form a plan of battle while we are underway. You have done more with far less information before. So has Mr. Letts.”
Pete nodded resignedly but shifted uncomfortably on his stool. “Okay, Admiral, you’re the boss. But I guess you’ve figured that if the ‘worst’ does happen, those guys’ll be on the beach, all alone, for those same five or six days, no matter what we do. You really think they can hold that long against the whole damn Grik army?”
Keje sighed. “I suppose not. They may not even survive the grounding. At this stage, all we can do is speculate and hope Donaghey makes enough sail to pull herself and Tolson clear. We should learn that soon. If Mr. Gaarrett and Mr. Chaa-pelle save their ships, we will happily stand down and resume awaiting Arracca’ s arrival, and you may continue to plan a landing anywhere you desire.” He frowned. “If that doesn’t happen, we must pray our people can hold out long enough for us to arrive. Gaarrett, Chaa-pelle, and Mr. Baarry are some of our most resourceful officers, commanding veteran crews. If anyone can do it, they can. Perhaps we will arrive to find a ‘beachhead’ already established for us!” He looked at everyone present in turn. “We will issue an alert order and prepare to move the fleet. Consider it a drill. If we must rescue our people, however, we will do so with no half measures. If it is required that we deploy our new weapons, ‘tip our hand’ so to speak, it will not be in sprinkles here and there, like a late-day squall that briefly comes and goes, but as a Strakka storm that will not pass until the enemy is scoured away!” He glanced at Pete and knew the Marine’s mind was already racing; examining, evaluating, and discarding tactical scenarios. “We will make all preparations for getting underway, but as soon as we get final word from Donaghey, we will have a meeting here, of all ship and field commanders.” He paused. “That is all.”
After the others departed to oversee the implementation of their orders, Keje and Pete strode upon what was left of Salissa‘ s (or Big Sal’ s, as the Americans still called her) battlement. Once a broad structure at the base of her center wing tower, it was much abbreviated now, placed off-center to make room for her “flight deck”; the old “battlement” was increasingly referred to as the “bridgewings.” Keje and Pete paused at the rail and gazed upon the broad deck below, cluttered with “Nancy” float-planes, their blue paint a dark gray-black in the gathering twilight. Indistinct shapes moved among them, checking lashings, making sure the craft were secure. Inevitably, the two leaders looked higher, to stare out across the broad anchorage they still called “Port Blair'1e
It was a heady sight. Never in all Lemurian history had the people amassed such combat power. The various ships had dissolved into mere outlines now, but they were well lit while their crews made all the various preparations. Humfra-Dar rode at anchor nearby, virtually identical to Big Sal, and similarly covered with aircraft. An even dozen powerful new steam frigates ringed the massive seagoing, sailing “Homes,” turned steam-powered aircraft carriers. USS Dowden, USS Scott, USS Nakja-Mur, and USS Kas-Ra-Ar had been joined by USS Haakar- Faask, USS Naga, USS Bowles, USS Felts, USS Saak-Fas, USS Clark, USS Davis, and USS Ramic-Sa-Ar. All were considered “DDs” and, according to tradition in the “American Navy,” were named for fallen heroes. Two dozen of the fast, razeed, Grik “Indiamen” they’d rebuilt as corvettes (now almost universally considered “DEs,” or “Destroyer Escorts”) also filled the harbor, along with forty unaltered Grik “prize” transports. Almost a hundred of the largest, swiftest feluccas in the Alliance constantly came and went, loaded with supplies as well. In all, First Fleet averaged seventy-odd ships present at any given time, and when Arracca arrived, she’d add herself, four more steam frigates, and six corvettes. Grik fleets were often bigger, but without the Japanese battle cruiser Amagi, they’d never possessed a fraction of the combat power anchored in Port Blair.
The shore facilities were nothing to sneeze at either. Big wooden cranes and booms had been rigged along the new docks situated in the calmest, most protected portion of the bay. Huge warehouses and other port facilities had been established, packed with sufficient supply reserves to last the fleet for many months, with more arriving all the time. Huge tank batteries were kept topped-off by regular visits of “Indiaman” oilers and tankers from Baalkpan and Talaud, and a floating dry dock was even under construction by skilled craftsmen who’d once built the monumental seagoing Homes. Nothing as big as Big Sal would ever fit in it, but it would handle just about anything else in the Alliance. Perry Brister had hit on the scheme when it occurred to him that all the master shipwrights who used to build Homes were now resentfully toiling at jobs anyone could do in the production-line-oriented Allied shipyards. With the sophisticated Lemurian pumps, building floating dry docks would be a good way to get the most out of the highly professional artisans. Besides, with the Allied fleets scattering across the known world, it would be easier to tow dry docks to them than tow damaged ships back to Baalkpan-and soon Maa-ni-la-where the only two real dry docks existed.
Beyond the warehouses, an honest-to-goodness airfield, complete with revetments, was being built, using crushed limestone and coral. Nothing would use it for some time, if ever, but it was always better to be prepared. Finally, the various facilities of Port Blair were surrounded on all sides by heavy batteries and defensive fortifications. The allies had come to Andaman to stay.
“It’s a hell of a sight,” Pete muttered after the silence between him and Keje had stretched too long.
“Yes,” Keje agreed, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry we disagreed before.”
Pete shrugged. “We didn’t really disagree. I was just doing my job, pointing out problems. We’ve had a lot of them, you know, and problems on the battlefield cost lives. I never want to land on another Grik beach when all the stuff I need to accomplish my mission is still aboard ship, or already unloaded miles away. That’s the sort of thing Letts can help with, but this offensive stuff is as newall the mahim as it was to us at first. It’ll take him time to get things sorted out. I’d have liked to let him practice up a little. You know, do a few training exercises.” Pete shrugged. “Maybe he still can.”
Keje looked at the Marine. “Well, in case he can’t, shouldn’t you call a staff meeting of your own? Begin preparations to embark troops?”
Pete shook his head. “I passed the word as soon as I heard the rumors, before I ever came to see you. That’s one thing we have sorted out; everybody knows what ship to board, with what equipment. It’s our job to make sure those ships off-load where we need them. As you said, I guess there’ll be plenty of time to decide that once we know where we’re going-if we’re going.” He paused. “No, I figured I’d hang around here until we get the word. Then, if I have to, I can hit the ground running. I’ll have my staff meeting when-if-we call everyone aboard here. I already have a few ideas, but we’d better call Letts out now. Get him figuring the angles too, and wrapping his brain around what we might have to do. Let him get a running start.”
“Agreed,” Keje said. “We will fetch Mr. Letts, and we can all wait together. Hopefully, once we know the score, we can sleep tomorrow away. If not… perhaps it’s more appropriate in a way. Once more we shall move to
