Crusade

«Make ’em count!» he snarled. The plane rattled as the other gun resumed fire. Down below, Revenge was wreathed in smoke. Bright jets of flame stabbed out at irregular intervals. Several enemy ships were almost upon her and they were being systematically dismantled. Masts crowded with struggling forms fell into the sea and at least one of the enemy was dead in the water, its shattered bow dipping low. So far, none of the enemy had employed their «Grik Fire,» however. They seemed intent on coming to grips with Revenge, whatever the cost.

«They want her in one piece,» Ben surmised aloud. There was nothing he could do about it. Ed’s gun had fallen silent in the nose. The PBY wasn’t carrying much ammunition — it was never imagined that it would need more than would be necessary to keep a threat at bay while it took off. Much like what had happened right after they discovered it. Now, even as the starboard waist gun continued to stutter, grappling hooks arced through the air, trailing their lines behind them like hundreds of spiders casting their webs.

«Damn it!» Ben exclaimed. His voice cracked. «They want her guns!»

Ed reappeared at his shoulder. «Rick won’t let them take her,» he said with sad, quiet certainty. Even as they circled, watching with sick fascination, more and more enemy vessels crowded forward like ants upon a stricken comrade. Revenge had disappeared entirely within the forest of masts and the only way they could tell her position was by the proximity of the strange white ship and the hazy column of smoke that still rose from the center of the mass. The final waist gun was silent now, but still Ben orbited above. On the d billowing cloud of smoke. Masts toppled outward from the blast like trees on the slope of a volcano and fiery debris rocketed into the sky. The plane was buffeted by the shock wave of the explosion and Ben fought the wheel to regain control. He quickly banked again to see the results through his suddenly unfocused eyes. Eight or ten ships had been in close contact with Revenge when she blew herself up. Two were just gone, and three more were smoldering wrecks. Vigorous fires had taken hold on several more and the smoke added to the vast pall now drifting down wind. Of Revenge and the white ship that had been beside her, there was no sign.

«That’s the style,» muttered Ben. His voice was almost a sob. He gently eased back on the controls and the Catalina began to gain altitude.

«Are we leaving now?» Ed asked.

«I guess,» Ben replied. «I just couldn’t before. Not while there was anybody down there who could see us.» Ed nodded understanding. «Besides, the captain. everyone will want to know how it ended.» He sighed. «One more thing, too. I want to get a solid count of how many ships they have. We’re still the ‘eyes’ of the fleet.»

At three thousand feet, Ben circled again while the others counted the enemy.

«Jesus, there’s a lot of them. I’ve lost count twice,» Ed said.

«It doesn’t have to be perfect. What do you have, Tikker?»

«Three hundred ten, but that’s not all I see, that’s all I can count. There’s more on the horizon.» Tikker squinted again. «There’s that Vol-caanno still.» He shook his head. «It looks closer now.»

For the first time, Ben really looked to the north where Tikker had spotted the smoke. Sure enough, a solid black column was slanting away to the east. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. «What the.?» He leveled out and pointed the Catalina north, toward the distant smudge.

«What is it?» asked Ed.

«I dunno. It looks like. but that’s impossible.» Frozen mercury poured down his back.

«It is!» Ed exclaimed excitedly. He was looking through the binoculars now. «It’s a ship! A modern ship! Burning coal, by the look of her. That’s why all the black smoke.» He hesitated and his face assumed a troubled expression. «But what the hell is she doing running around with a bunch of lizards? Look, they’re all around her!»

«Maybe they captured her? She had to have gotten here the same way we did. Hell, they nearly got us, remember?»

Ed was still staring intently through the glasses. «Jeez, that’s not just any ship, it’s a warship! She looks bigger than the goddamn Arizona!»

The icy mercury running down Ben’s back was suddenly joined in his stomach by molten lead. «Give me those!» he said, snatching the glasses away. «Tikker, take the controls!»

The Lemurian stared, wide-eyed, at the wheel in front of him and then grasped it in both of his clawed hands. The tone in Ben’s voice told him that any fooling around wouldn’t be acceptable. He clenched his teeth and held the wheel as tight and steady as he could. Ben adjusted the objective until the image became crystal clear. His subconscious mind screamed in protest and he almost dropped the binoculars. Even at twelve or fifteen miles the silhouette was un maintained contact for quite a while as it flew ever farther north. Then, all of a sudden, there was nothing. Just some weird static. It wasn’t coming from his end, he was sure, and he doubted that Ed had done anything on his end to cause it. Ed could be a screwball, but he was a pretty good hand with a radio and besides, with the skipper on the warpath, he knew better than to goof around.

A hazy tendril of concern began to creep into Clancy’s thoughts. Steve Riggs was in Baalkpan working on a system of communications for the defenses there. With him and Palmer both gone, Clancy would be the communications department. Of course, without the radio on the plane, there wouldn’t be much need for one. All in all, it had been a pretty nerve-racking day.

«C’mon, Ed,» he muttered. «Talk to me.»

Suddenly enough to startle him with the irony, he thought he detected something buried in the static. He put his earphones on and began adjusting knobs. There! The unmistakable «beep beeping» began to emerge. Instead of voice, the signal was coming in CW, or Morse code. He snatched up a pencil and began to transcribe the letters as they came.

ZSA ZSA ZSA. (Can you receive?) Over and over again. Clancy quickly tapped back a reply.

ZSB-2. (I can receive. Readability fair.)

ZOE-5-O-J. (I am going to transmit in strings of five-urgent-verify and repeat.)

For an instant Clancy just stared at his key. «What the hell?» he muttered. They’d been transmitting in the clear for so long it didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Ed want to use five-letter code groups?

ZOE-5-O-J, he finally tapped back.

It wouldn’t be long now. The bright passion of Matt’s rage had ebbed somewhat as the day progressed, and that was probably for the best, he realized. The endless delays of preparing an army for battle had stretched into the midafternoon, and at times he found himself wondering if he really should have waited for the rest of the force to join them. Keje’s and even Shinya’s estimate of the time it would take to get ready had been overly optimistic. Intellectually, he knew the wait was a small price to pay. Not only would the larger force face less difficulty and take fewer casualties when it stormed the city, but now that it was decided, he believed even more strongly that it was important they all go in together.

The various members of the Allied Expeditionary Force had to learn here and now that they couldn’t pick and choose which battles were convenient for them to fight. They were all in this together and if they were going to win this war, they had to share the burden equally.

That didn’t mean he felt any less frustrated over the delays. Lord Rolak’s force and the Marines still constituted the point of the spear, but Queen Maraan’s had been pulled back in reserve and replaced by the Third and Fifth Guards. That’s what took the most time. It was believed — probably correctly — that the defenders would fight harder if they knew they were facing their ancestral enemies from across the bay. Matt’s destroyermen had been redeployed as well — much to their disgust. They’d still go in with the «first wave» but more as heavy- weapons support platoons than front-line shock troops. Their job would be to shoot archers and commanders with the Springfields and Krags and break up enemy concentrations with the Thompsons and BARs. Either way, they’d be in the thick of the fighting, Matt knew, and they’d use an awful lot of ammunition.e once more join those who fought and hear their deeds in person!»

A great roar went up and, Safir, her eyes still shining, turned to Matt while Chack translated what she said. All Matt could do was shake his head and wonder. He wasn’t about to ask right then.

«What about Aryaal?» she asked, the power gone from her voice. «And there are other cities — Kudraang, Kartaj, Bataava — farther up the coast.»

«There’s nothing we can do for them,» Matt replied somberly.

«There’s not enough time.» He glanced grimly at his watch again and then looked at Rolak. The old warrior