Crusade

to let that sink in. He really believed it was the truth, too. At least he hoped it was. The idea of their very souls being banished to this strange world as well was m right.»

«Never was much good at public speaking,» he demurred.

«You did all right, Skipper,» Ellis repeated.

«Yes, you did,» Sandra agreed. «And you know? Maybe you’re right. About why we’re here, I mean.»

«Makes as much sense as anything,» said Jim. «And if it’s true, it proves God sure is an imaginative guy.»

«What do you mean?»

«The way the war was going back home, and in the shape our ships were in, only God could’ve found a use for them. Even if we’d managed to get out of our fix without the Squall — which I doubt — they wouldn’t have been any good to the Navy anymore.»

«God works in mysterious ways, huh?» quoted Matt with a small smile of his own. «What an understatement.»

The crowd dispersed, many to attend to their military duties but most to continue preparations for the Lemurian service later that evening. Labor parties resumed tearing down the wooden warehouses that lined the wharf to use them for fuel for the pyres. Others swarmed over one of the Grik hulks that had been driven ashore during the battle and were quickly reducing it to its skeletal framework. The ghetto housing, such as it was, was left untouched. The allied commanders were unhappy about the necessity of destroying the warehouses — or any property at all — but since there was no suitable timber nearby, they had no choice. They needed all the wood they could find to send this unprecedented number of souls to the sky. At least the warehouses were mostly empty, their contents having been moved into the city when the Grik arrived.

«An. unusual ceremony,» remarked Keje to Adar and Rolak, referring to the Amer-i-caan funeral they’d just seen. Keje had arrived late and had been supported by his disapproving daughter. He was still dizzy from the blow on his head.

«Unusual,» Adar agreed thoughtfully. «Short, too. And very somber. Their grief was quite clear.»

«They see death more as an ending than we do, perhaps. As if they do not expect to meet their lost ones again,» Keje speculated.

«I think not,» countered Adar. «Cap-i-taan Reddy told me to hear his words and I might better understand their faith.» He shook his head. «I listened, but my understanding is no less uncertain. I think he was right, however, that we may only sail a different wind to the same destination. They certainly hope to meet again those who go before them, as do we, but perhaps they are less certain their God will find them here, so far from their home.»

«Even more reason not to hide their dead underground.»

Adar looked at his lifelong friend but shook his head at Keje’s obtuseness. «You know as well as any novice priest that the souls of those lost at sea will rise to the heavens as surely as those sent by the pyre. The smoke of the pyre is symbolic. The ashes of the dead that rise within it settle back to the land or sea, in time. No,» he continued, «their customs may seem bizarre, even distasteful. But the meanings behind them are not so different as they may at first appear. I will have to speak more with them about this, but I think we must consider: they are willing to fight and die with us despite a fear that if they do die, they will be utterly lost. I believe our service for the dead would be considerably more somber if that concern lin, I’ve no doubt the souls we free tonight will find their way, but I do grieve that there are so many. Their concerns are over, beyond those they may retain for us. I do not begrudge their contentment in the heavens. but we will regret their loss in the battles to come. Do not think I’ve forgotten my oath,» he said.

The three Lemurians lingered in silence a short while longer, watching as the mixed human and Lemurian burial party proceeded with their chore. Shovelfuls of soil disappeared into the rectangular holes with soft thumping sounds.

«It was surely a ceremony for warriors,» Rolak stated. «Except for the part when they are buried.»

The Lemurian «service» was just as alien to the human destroyermen who witnessed it as theirs had been to the Lemurians. Matt watched the initial ceremony accompanied by Jim, Sandra, and Courtney. Except for the firing party, whom Matt had ordered to remain as a show of honor and respect, most of the other members of the funeral party had returned to the ship. He’d ordered Gray to go, ostensibly to help coordinate repairs but mainly to get him off his feet. To his surprise, all the Lemurian destroyermen returned to the ship as well. All except Chack, who had remained behind along with the equally surprising Dennis Silva. Silva sent the phonograph back with Stites but stayed ashore talking quietly with Chack, waiting for the Lemurian funeral to get under way. Matt doubted they had ended their feud, but they appeared to be observing a truce for the evening, at least. Matt joined them briefly, out of curiosity.

«Chack?» he said.

«Sir?»

«Why did the other people. your people, go back to the ship? I thought I made it clear they were welcome to stay.»

Chack looked at him and then glanced out at the deepening gloom of the bay, beyond the pier, where the two ships lay. Nearby, and lower down, the dark silhouette of the PBY floated now as well. The Lemurian ceremony was about to take place on the west side of the point, nearest to Madura, where Mahan had been anchored almost since she arrived. A power cable had been rigged between the destroyers, and portable lights and lanterns glowed harshly on the decks, contrasting brightly against the dull glow in the western sky where the sun had slipped away.

«They grieve, Cap-i-taan,» he said. «But they are Navy men, yes? They are destroyermen.»

Matt nodded. «Yes. They are.»

«Walker is their Home. You are High Chief for Walker. You are High Chief of all the Amer-i-caan Navy here, so Mahan is their Home too. Both Homes need us now, more than the dead, and so they want to work.» He paused. «I am here because I do not know what you want me to do.»

Matt was taken aback. «What do you mean, Chack?»

«When I came to Walker, Keje-Fris-Ar was my High Chief. Big Sal was my Home. When I joined the Amer-i-caan Navy, I thought Walker was my Home. I was Bosun’s Mate,» he added proudly. Then he sighed. «Lieutenant Shinya tells me now that I am to be Chief of the Second Marines. What does that mean? I have become a good warrior,» he said matter-of-factly, «which is something I never expected, and I. am good at it. But is Walker no longer my Home? Do I not have a home?»

Matt was perplexed for a moment; then realization dawned. «No! I mean, yes, Walker is certainly your Home, Chack, and you’re still a bosun’s mate! Good grief, I’m sorry ift size='3'ious enough not to think of them at all. That was a tough difference to bridge and he knew major religious wars had been fought throughout human history over less profound differences. Matt had to admit that the sea folk’s religion was probably closer to what he’d been brought up with — profoundly different, of course, but still closer than Rolak’s or Queen Maraan’s. Although, he admitted wryly to himself, he could understand the attraction of the land folk religion to its adherents. At least to the males.

He looked at Sandra and saw the torchlight reflecting off her gold-tinged, sandy hair and fresh-scrubbed face. Her nurse’s uniform was immaculate and exotically feminine compared to the dungarees she wore day to day. He couldn’t help it, but a deep sadness, unrelated to the day’s events, swept over him and he looked away so fast that his throbbing shoulder made him wince.

She looked ey would have us believe that everything, even the delay in speaking to us after the battle, was caused by confusion while they hunted the murderous conspirators.»

Matt shook his head. «Sounds awfully Byzantine to me — or Soviet.»

Courtney Bradford laughed out loud. «I don’t believe we need look to Uncle Joe Stalin for examples of a dirty and complicated rise to power. Our own shared English history is replete enough with those, Captain.»

Matt smiled. «I’m Irish American, with a fair measure of Scot. O’Roddy — Reddy — you know.»

«Hmm.»

They were aboard Walker, in the wardroom again, and it was full as usual. They were engaged in an informal discussion of the situation, but nearly every faction was represented, except the