Crusade

«What can we do to increase our prestige among those monsters?» Kurokawa asked, waving toward the endless fleet beyond the glass windows of the bridge and returning Okada’s thoughts to the unusual conversation.

«Show ourselves to be even more vicious and contemptible than they are, I suspect,» Sato said bitterly. The captain considered his words.

«You may not be mistaken. We must put ourselves forward in battle, Commander Okada. Their commander must see our power for himself!» He clenched his fists at his side in frustration. «Which we cannot do if we are so slow!»

Sato tried to avert his captain’s mounting rage by changing the subject. «At least now we know the source of the radio transmissions we detected. Not two ships, but a single ship and a plane. The American flying-boat was unexpected.»

«Yes. It did a great deal of damage before it flew away.» Kurokawa’s features reddened. «If our antiaircraft defenses had been better prepared, we could have shot it down and we would not be having this conversation! The Grik would have certainly seen our worth!»

Sato quickly diverted the captain from attacking another part of the crew. «But the enemy ship did much more damage. I understand one of the Grik commanders was killed and his ship destroyed. The survivors of the raid on Surabaya were right about the cannons.»

«So it would seem.» Kurokawa hesitated. «The Grik will see Amagi’s worth if they face many more of those.» He glanced at the clock on the bulkhead. For the first time, Sato thought he saw nervousness behind the captain’s eyes. «Soon I must cross to the ‘flagship.’ '

Sato waited a moment before he spoke. «Must you take Captain Kaufman with you this time? He might be even more valuable to us now, and each time he is in the presence of those creatures, he. slips. a little more.»»

Kurokawa regarded him with a hard gaze. «Pity for the enemy, Commander Okada?»

Sato’s expression hardened as well. «Empathy for an officer who saw his crew eaten by our ‘allies,’ Captain Kurokawa. Even the Grik spoke highly of his bravery, after a fashion. He did not surrender; he was overwhelmed.»

Sato shuddered, and once more changed the subject. He was getting good at maneuvering the conversation to keep his commander’s temper in check. «Will you tell the Grik your assumptions based on all the radio traffic we intercepted? Before the enemy resumed transmitting in code?»

Kurokawa looked at him. «Of course. It is valuable information and they will see it as such.» He smiled. «That we’ve somehow divined it will surely raise us in their estimation.»

Sato took a deep breath and glanced around at the other men on the bridge. He knew they were straining to hear, but doubted they could understand much. In spite of that, he spoke barely above a whisper. «Before we reveal that we can send and receive messages over long distances, let alone where we think the American base might be, would it not be best to speak to the Americans first?»

Kurokawa’s eyes bulged and he screamed, «You would speak to the enemy?!»

Sato forced his voice to remain calm and low. «Captain, please! Let me speak!» he said. «First, would it not be best to conceal the technology of radio from. our ‘allies’ as long as we can? Once they know of its existence, we will have irretrievably lost an advantage. They will want its secrets and we will have difficulty withholding them.»

Taken aback, Kurokawa lowered his voice. «But what good is it to keep the secret? We have no one to talk to!»

«That may not always be the case! Besides, we have two aircraft of our own. The spotting planes! They have radios!»

Amagi had lost one of her spotting planes in the battle that brought her here — ironically when a Japanese dive bomber went out of control and crashed directly atop her amidships ten-inch turret, destroying it as well as the plane and catapult on top of it. But she still had two planes left. Both were obsolete, short-range biplanes. Nakajima Type 95 E8Ns, to be precise. They were single-engine affairs and carried one huge float under the fuselage and a couple of smaller ones under the wings. They were good, reliable, low-maintenance airplanes with all-metal structures covered by fabric. The two-man crew sat in individual open cockpits where they would never have to worry about being too comfortable to keep their eyes open. Perfect for observation planes. Probably the best kind of planes they could have right now, since they were so simple. But they were certainly not fighters.

Kurokawa still seethed constantly over the loss of their much more capable plane, the Aichi Type Zero E13A1 that had been turned into flaming confetti along with quite a lot of other very useful equipment, weapons, ammunition, and fuel — Kurokawa didn’t consider the men — when the crippled plane smashed into his ship. Okada mourned every scratch Amagi suffered and every life she lost, but practically speaking, under the circumstances, he’d trade the Type Zero for the Type 95s any day.

«True, but we have hardly any fuel for them,» the captain snapped bitterly. He waved his hand. «Enough for a few short flights. Most of our reserve was destroyed by the Americans’ cowardly torpedo attack. And That Imbecile Who Crashed IThe officer said something in Japanese and the hatch was closed and secured. As always, now that they were alone, the officer wrinkled his nose at the stench from the other bucket, in the corner. Kaufman didn’t even notice the smell anymore. Still squinting, he hastily stood.

«Good morning, Captain Kaufman,» said the man in pleasant, if badly accented, English.

«Is it morning?» Kaufman asked eagerly.

«Yes. Just dawn.» Sato paused, watching the nervous twitch that had taken control of the prisoner’s pale, waxy face. That was new. «I have not come to take you to the Grik,» he hastily assured him. «You are well?»

Much of Kaufman’s tension ebbed, but the twitch remained. «I am, thank God. I mean, thank God.» He shuddered, and Sato nodded understanding.

«I too am glad,» he muttered. «But I have to ask you a question.»

Kaufman nodded and straightened his shoulders. «Of course.»

«Yesterday, our. the fleet we are a part of was involved in action with an enemy ship.» Kaufman tensed again and his expression was one of anguish. «It wasn’t the American destroyer,» Sato mercifully assured him. «It was a captured Grik vessel that the enemy had supplied with cannons. They were most effective. Many Grik ships were destroyed.» He paused and watched to see how Kaufman reacted to that. He wasn’t surprised to see a fragile smile and he had to struggle not to match it. «Regrettably, from an intelligence standpoint, the ship was destroyed. Nothing was recovered, but there is testimony from the survivors on nearby ships that there was one human, perhaps two, on board the enemy ship. We can only conclude they were countrymen of yours.» Sato hesitated when he saw the prisoner’s stricken look. «For that, you have my condolences. What I must ask you, however, is whether or not you were aware of the existence of an American flying-boat?»

Kaufman’s eyes went wide and, if anything, his twitch became more violent. He began scratching the left side of his face unconsciously. «Well, yes, I am. I mean, I was. You mean you’ve seen it?» Sato nodded and Captain Kaufman closed his eyes and smiled with genuine relief. «My God. So Mallory made it after all!» He stopped and looked at Commander Okada. «We found it on the beach. The plane, that is. It was shot up and half sunk, but Mallory and a couple other fellas got it flying. The Grik nearly got them! Anyway, I sent it on to Ceylon to bring out an escort for Mahan.» He stopped and his face was stricken. «But he couldn’t have gone to Ceylon. could he?»

«Why did you never mention the plane before?»

Kaufman glanced vacantly around. «Nobody asked. I just figured it was lost. The Griks that got after it saw it that day.» He looked imploringly at Sato. «I’m sorry. I would have told you, I swear! I just never thought it was still around!» He sat back down on his bucket and rubbed his twitching face, staring at Sato through his fingers with red-rimmed eyes. «Please,» he whispered. «Don’t beat me anymore.»

Sato stared down at the prisoner, sickened. As much with Kaufman as with himself. «You won’t be beaten,» he said. He glanced back at the hatch to make sure it was still dogged. «This plane,» he said, «has a radio.» It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. «So too does the American destroyer. If I could arrange it so you had access to a radio yourself, could you contact either of them?»