Crusade

Shinya stepped up beside him. «Sir?»

«See to it, if you please. Set up an abbreviated drill for our new allies. Or if they’re willing, maybe we can integrate the B’mbaadan troops directly into our existing regiments, at least for now. Sort of a ‘jump right in’ form of basic training. God knows, we need the replacements after yesterday.» While he spoke, he noticed the queen of B’mbaado staring at Chack with as close to an expression of interested speculation as her face was capable of. Perhaps Adar had mentioned him? Maybe she’d asked about the powerful young Lemurian who stared brazenly back at her from beneath the jaunty angle of his dented helmet. «I know you’ve learned to speak ’Cat pretty good, Lieutenant,» Matt said in a thoughtful tone, «but use Chack as your liaison. If you want him to keep the Second Marines that’s fine with me — hell, he helped train them — and that’d be a good outfit to put their officers in to work them up.»

Lieutenant Shinya nodded. «That was my thinking exactly, Captain.»

Matt looked at the battle line commanders for a moment before addressing them. «All of you are not just captains but also heads of state. You have an equal say in this matter. Do any of you object to this alliance?» There was only a respectful silence from the Home high chiefs, although Anai-Sa of Fristar seemed oblivious. «Good.» He turned to Safir Maraan. «Your Highness, as commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force, it’s my honor to accept your nation into our alliance on behalf of its other members, with my gratitude.» There was another short cheer, and Queen Maraan bowed graciously once more. Matt took a breath and regarded Lord Rolak, who stood watching what transpired with a tired, wistful posture. «Lord Rolak.»

The Aryaalan seemed to clear his thoughts as he quickly knelt before the captain. «Yes, Lord?»

Matt understood that much of the People’s speech, and he rubbed his eyes with his good hand and peered down at the t was high time he learned to speak without an interpreter. «Adar,» he said, «please try to explain to Lord Rolak that he’s not a slave. I know what he did — what he risked and what he lost — in order to keep his word. I don’t doubt his honor or his courage, and no one else should either. I admire it. Tell him that. Then tell him I’d be grateful for his service, and the service of all those who followed him and fought so well at our side. Not as slaves or vassals, but as friends.»

Matt carefully lowered himself until he was kneeling on the ground. As Adar spoke, Rolak lifted his gaze until it rested heavily and searchingly upon Matt’s face. With an encouraging smile, Matt extended his hand. Rolak looked at it, unsure, until Adar quickly explained the human custom. Then Rolak slowly, almost tentatively, extended his own hand. Matt grasped it between them and pumped it up and down.

Seeing Matt’s difficulty in rising, Shinya and Sandra helped the captain back onto the stool, where he sat, puffing slightly and watching the Aryaalan.

Rolak stood and brushed sand from his knees. «We are friends then, yes,» he said, talking to Adar. «But that in no way absolves me of my honor debt. If anything, it makes it a greater burden. Sometimes friendship can be the cruelest slavery of all, but in this case I accept it gladly. Tell Cap-i-taan Reddy he is my lord, as Fet-Alcas once was, and my sword, my life, and my honor are still his, but they are freely given as a friend and not as a slave.»

Matt listened to Adar’s translation and sighed. It was probably the best compromise he would manage for now, given the dire nature of Rolak’s original pledge, and he was grateful that, however it happened, the alliance had grown still more.

«Now,» he said, holding himself as still as possible while the pain of his exertions subsided, «that’s over with. I’ve heard your reports, but this meeting is to get everyone on the same page regarding our current situation. Mr. Shinya, would you describe the disposition of the enemy?»

«Yes, sir.» Shinya shifted and spoke so his voice would carry to all those present. «As far as we can tell, they’re gone. Our original estimate of their embarked force seems to have been. a little off, and several hundred of them, at least, escaped at the end of the battle. There is no indication that they retreated in any semblance of order, though.

They just fled. I would recommend that when the Catalina flies in from Baalkpan this afternoon, Lieutenant Mallory be requested to fly a quick search pattern, fuel permitting, to ensure that the enemy has not reconstituted himself nearby.»

«Do you think that is likely?» Keje asked. He spoke very carefully because he, like Matt, was trying to remain as still as he could.

«It’s possible. I do not think it likely, however.» Shinya paused and his brow furrowed in thought as he tried to decide how best to explain himself. Before he could, Courtney Bradford spoke up.

«If I may, Lieutenant?» Shinya nodded and the Australian cleared his throat. «Well. First of all, when the Grik finally broke, it was quite spectacular. Quite spectacular indeed! They just ran in all directions, like bees! As if they’d entirely lost their minds. Although I wasn’t, um, actually in the very thickest of the fight, I saw the end from what might have been a better vantage point than most. Their demeanor couldn’t have been more different from one moment to the next. It was as though one just pulled a cord and flipped a lied. «We saw it once aboard Big Sal and again, well, yesterday. I don’t think it’s a phenomenon we can feel certain enough of to base any strategy upon.»

«What do you think it is?» growled Chief Gray.

Bradford shrugged. «Some kind of massive, instinctual panic attack that renders them totally incapable of concerted efforts — such as war. Be lovely to turn it on and off again at will, but so far the only things I’ve seen do the trick are massive doses of automatic weapons, heavy artillery, and having their assault stopped cold by what were, at least briefly and locally, superior numbers that attacked them with mindless ferocity.» He beamed at Lord Rolak.

Matt frowned. «So, in other words, pretty much the same thing that has stopped every other attack in history.»

«Indeed. But the effect was still significant, don’t you think?»

«It was certainly significant,» Shinya confirmed. «And if we could learn how to create it at will, even strategic perhaps.» He turned to Matt. «But Mr. Bradford is right. We cannot ‘plan’ for it. We have fought the Grik enough now to know that it does not always happen. In fact, sometimes their ‘rout’ can make them even more dangerous.» He was remembering the losses they’d taken in the hold of Revenge when they scoured the last of the Grik from below. Slowly he brightened, his hand still resting on the pommel of the cut- down katana/cutlass Sandison had given him. «But they are gone from here now!»

«Good,» said Matt with a genuine smile. «At least the ‘land’ lizards no longer seem a threat.» There were a couple of chuckles from the destroyermen nearby. «What’s the condition of the task force?»

«All is well, Cap-i-taan Reddy,» Keje said, but then he put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. Adar continued for him. «No serious damage yesterday, or in the fighting with the Grik ships. Ammunition is depleted. We expended more than half of what we brought. As you know, weight and storage is not a problem, only production. We brought what we had. As more is made in Baalkpan, it will be sent.»

Matt nodded. «What about those feluccas we couldn’t account for?»

Rick Tolson spoke up. «We found one, Skipper. Hard aground in the shoals around those crummy little islands off the southeast coast of Madura. Everybody got off okay, but the ship was a total loss.» He shook his head. «Lucky we didn’t lose a dozen of ’em in there. No sign of the others. Lizards must’ve got ’em.»

«Poor bastards,» muttered Gray. Matt glanced at him, then looked at the bay where Walker had finally backed clear of the river. Even as he watched, her horn tooted exultantly, and Matt grinned in spite of himself. Dowden must have known he’d be as nervous as a cat. He had every confidence in his exec’s seamanship, but he still felt tremendous relief.

«Well, now that it’s clear our exuberant Mr. Dowden has saved my ship from further exposure to freshwater, I guess I’ll report that she came through the fighting with no damage except for some scorched paint, some busted glass, and the loss of one of her propeller blades.»

The Lemurian sea folk all nodded seriously at the news. They’d never seen Walker’s propellers, of course, but they’d seen drawings of the magical things that moved the iron ship so swiftly. Also, they’d seen the propellers on the PBY and knew the principle was the same. Matt had have thrown spears at it or started a new religion. They certainly wouldn’t have acted like «Oh, yeah. Pretty neat. We can’t make one, but it makes perfect sense.»

The fact that their culture — at least that of the sea folk — revolved around the reality of moving air, or wind, must have given them a pretty good grasp of the idea that air had substance whether you could see it or not. There were enough creatures that flew to prove flight was possible too. So from there, the notion that people might