warriors.
“I’ll teach you to kick my ’Cats, you unnatural sons-a-bitches!” Silva screamed.
Keje-Fris-Ar felt dazed as he sagged with his hands on his knees, panting. The world was upside down. He’d been wounded superficially in many places and was faint with fatigue and perhaps loss of blood. His tongue was swollen, his lips cracked and bleeding, and he’d lost his voice hours ago. He blinked thanks when Selass gave him a large copper mug, but his hands shook uncontrollably and he couldn’t drink. From the gloom, Adar was beside him, helping to hold it still. Pridefully, he tried to shake off the Sky Priest’s hands, but didn’t have the strength even for that. Instead, he drank greedily with closed eyes as the tepid water soothed his throat. But even with eyes closed, his mind still saw the momentous things he’d witnessed.
He’d seen things that day that rivaled the epic power of the Scrolls themselves. Acts of courage and horror without compare-without precedence-as far as he knew. And he’d seen wonders beyond comprehension, such as the power of the Tail-less Ones who’d so unexpectedly come to their aid. Without whose aid they’d have surely perished. But beyond even that, he’d seen what that power did to the Grik. The People helped, of course, but it was the power of the Tail-less Ones that worked the miracle he could hardly believe, even now. The Grik had broken.
They hadn’t been merely repulsed; he’d seen that before. They’d utterly and completely broken and fled in absolute terror from the combined assault of the Tail-less Ones’ magic and the vengeful ferocity of the People. There’d been confusion on both sides at first, when suddenly there raged a hammering sound like nothing ever heard and the Grik-but only the Grik-began dying by the score. Hundreds fell, horribly mangled, in the space of a few short breaths, and they couldn’t fight-couldn’t even see- whatever was killing them! The panic began in their rear, behind the fighting, and Keje first noticed it as a lessening pressure in front of his fighters. Wary glances of alarm became shrieks of rage and terror, as the Grik saw their comrades dying and fleeing behind them. Keje saw it too, and despite his own shock, grasped the opportunity. He led the charge that swept the enemy entirely from the decks of Home.
The killing had been wanton and the victory complete. He couldn’t count how many Grik were cut down from behind, or hacked and clawed one another to death as they fled back to the ships still lashed to Salissa. Hundreds simply leaped into the sea, so total had their panic been. One Grik ship got clear, so the victory wasn’t entirely complete, but the other tried to flee in full view of the Tail-less Ones’ amazing ship, and two thunderous booms from their strange tubes left it a sinking wreck. The ship then surged forward, apparently to chase the other, but almost immediately slowed and came about, back to the side of Home. The strange beings rushed to and fro, dragging heavy ropelike things around their deck, and then, to the further amazement of all, water surged upon the fires raging in the forward part of Salissa.
A gentle, refreshing mist still descended on Keje as dusk slowly ended this momentous day and his People gleefully rolled Grik corpses over the side. With an effort, he disengaged from the supporting hands of his oldest friend and daughter and crept painfully to the rail. There below, he saw the same figure looking up he’d seen just days before. Fighting pain and weariness with nothing but will, he raised his right arm and gave the Sign of the Empty Hand. He hoped, somehow, the gesture would convey a fraction of his gratitude.
In the glare of the dwindling flames, he was sure the creature raised its hand as well, and he slumped into the arms of his friend and his daughter-and others. As they carried him away he realized that tomorrow the sun would rise on a different world. One in which the Grik were more bold and more numerous than their worst nightmares could have foretold, but also a world in which the Grik had been broken, and his People had powerful friends.
CHAPTER 5
The battle was over-at least the fighting part was. Like all battles, the aftermath looked as gruesome and painful as the strife. Walker’s searchlights illuminated the continuing toil on the deck of the huge ship that floated, still smoldering, less than a hundred yards away. The Lemurians tending their many wounded and throwing their enemies over the side appeared hesitant to enter the powerful beams at first, but they quickly recognized the friendly gesture, if not the power behind it. They now took full advantage of the unusual illumination. Very practical creatures, Matt observed. He’d hesitated to use the lights, concerned that they might perceive them as some sort of threat or an unwholesome act on Walker’s part. His concerns were quickly put to rest. Even if the Lemurians were uneasy, after what Walker had done for them, they were evidently prepared to accept her benevolence.
“Secure from general quarters,” he said quietly, and joined Sandra, Bradford, and the torpedo-director crew on the bridgewing. The torpedomen were unplugging their headsets and securing their equipment. He glanced up and behind to see Garrett and several others leaning on the rail of the fire-control platform, watching the labors of their “allies.” A tiny meteor arced over the side as Chief Gray, on the foredeck below the splashguard, guiltily flicked a cigarette away. “The smoking lamp’s lit, Boats,” Matt called down with amusement. The number one gun crew chuckled, and Gray turned on them in a vitriolic frenzy. Matt listened to the humorous tirade and shook his head.
“We should help them,” said Sandra, referring to the scene on the wounded ship. She paused, remembering her meager resources. Their supplies were limited, and so were the personnel of her “division.” Karen Theimer was increasingly withdrawn, and Jamie Miller was just a kid. Besides, they couldn’t all go. Still…
“I should help them. I should go across immediately and offer assistance, Captain.” She’d turned to face him, her words changing from an observation to a formal request.
He looked at her thoughtfully, but reluctantly shook his head. “That might be a good idea,” he temporized. “It wouldn’t hurt our resume with our new friends either, as long as they recognize your efforts for what they are. But it’s just not possible.”
“I’m afraid I must insist, Captain. We had no casualties and I’m sure I can make my intentions known. Pain has no language. Even if I can’t speak to them or know their physiology, I can help bandage. My God, they may not even know about germs!”
He nodded sympathetically and spoke very gently. “I admire your courage and compassion. But it really is impossible and you must not insist.” He gestured over the side. The sea still churned with the silvery, tuna-sized fish. Whenever another lizard hit the water, it frothed and thrashed anew. Sandra followed his gaze and bit her lip. “There’s no way I’m risking you or Nurse Theimer-not to mention a boat and crew- until things settle down. By morning the fish may have had their fill, and in daylight we might give it a try.”
“There’s no other way?” she asked, almost plaintively.
“No. In daylight, if those things are still down there, and we can get the Lemurians to understand, we might shoot a line across and rig a bosun’s chair. But that’ll take coordination and some very careful station-keeping. If one of those plesiosaurs shows up, we might have to maneuver…” He stopped. “That won’t work either. Hopefully by then we can just use a boat.”
He spoke no more and just stared across the water. His face was troubled, frowning. He was anxious to meet the Lemurians for a number of reasons. First, he certainly agreed with Sandra: if they could render medical assistance, they should offer it. More important, they’d just waded into a war in a big way, and he had no idea where they stood or how big a war it was. Possibly the lizards were simply raiders, the local equivalent of Malay pirates. Maybe the Lemurians represented the greater power, and even if there was a general war going on, they’d just ingratiated themselves to that power and all their problems were solved. But it was equally possible that the reverse was true. One of the lizard ships had escaped, and however powerful they might be, there was no doubt about the role Walker played in the battle. What’s more, they might not be so easily discouraged by modern weapons again. He wanted answers. And there lurked another problem: how in the world would they communicate? Perhaps Bradford would have suggestions.
After a while Sandra tentatively put her hand on his in the darkness. “I’m sorry again,” she said.
He looked at her, genuinely surprised-by the words and the touch. “What for?”
“For… a lot of things. For pressuring you. Doubting you. I know how hard it was, how much you wanted to avoid this. But you did the right thing.”
He looked at her very frankly and sighed. “I think so too, or I wouldn’t have done it. I hope we’re both right.” He smiled. “I guess we’ll find out.”
