had been estranged far too long. First, her choice of a mate had upset him-and then the self-centered fool had the effrontery to die a hero’s death! Even before that occurred, she’d developed a hopeless infatuation for Chack-Sab- At, whom she’d first driven away, right into the arms of Safir Maraan! He’d despaired that she might ever become a sensible creature. Perhaps her friendship with Sandra Tucker had helped. She’d even grown civil to Chack’s sister, Risa, who commanded Salissa ’s Marine contingent. Whatever the cause, ever since the Great Battle, she’d been devoted to him and he admitted he was glad their rift had mended.
He stared the length of his ship. His Home was unrecognizable now. Where her great tripods and pagoda apartments once stood, there remained only a huge, flat deck. New quarters were under construction below that deck, but no more would Big Sal, as the Amer-i-caans called her, move with the power of the wind and tide that had controlled her every course since her very birth. She was becoming a machine, a ship of war! A thought once so alien to Keje he could never have imagined it. That anyone would build a ship just for war-besides the Grik-seemed unnatural. At least, it had before the Amer-i-caan destroyermen came. But these were unnatural times. Salissa had been all but destroyed by the Grik and their Japanese allies, just as Walker had. He pondered that a moment.
Was Walker not a live thing, even though she was a machine? Captain Reddy and all her people always behaved as if they thought she was. Keje felt she was. When they repaired her, would not her soul return to her? It must. Where else would it go? If a body lived, it must have a soul. If Walker had indeed been “dead” for a while, perhaps her soul was trapped within her. Or maybe it had rested in the Heavens above, with all the people she’d lost? It was all so confusing! Salissa had been nearly as “dead” as Walker, but Keje had never felt her soul had left her. That should mean her soul would remain with her whether she became a machine or was restored completely to what she was before. His tension ebbed a bit. He’d discussed this with Matt, with Spanky, Adar, and even his daughter. All had different thoughts regarding the soul of a ship, but all completely agreed that, whatever it was, Big Sal still had hers. Looking at her now, though, a mere naked hull with a long, flat top, he found it hard to imagine somehow.
“The wings are machines, Father,” his daughter reminded him, easily guessing his thoughts. “By our construction and by our design, they harness the wind-a natural element-to our will. We make them, we control them, they move as we direct them. The wings are machines.” She nodded toward the gaping hole in the aft center of the broad, flat deck. “The engines, when they are installed, will do the same.” She pointed at the shipyard, where the massive contrivances lay covered with sailcloth, awaiting installation. “There they are, Father. They are not wings, but we made them and we shall control them. They will move us as you direct them! They will burn gish, yes, and we will no longer be independent of the land folk, but with this terrible war, that time was already past. Those engines will burn gish to make steam-merely heated water and also a natural thing-and that steam will move the engine and turn the propeller that will soon be installed. Salissa will move like Walker, the very same way!” She paused and chuckled. “Perhaps not as fast… but by the same means. If Walker has a soul, then surely Salissa ’s is safe. It might even be proud!”
“Proud?”
“Indeed. Have you not seen the aar-planes? They will be Salissa ’s! With the guns she still carries and the aar-planes to carry her strength farther than the eye can see, Salissa will be the mightiest ship in the world! Mightier even than Amagi ever was!”
Keje laughed. “You have been talking to Letts again!” He grew thoughtful. “But Captain Reddy says the same. As much as he loves his ship, he loves aar-planes just as much-and hates not having them!” He sighed, then laughed again. “Did you know I must go to school? I must learn how to handle my own ship all over again! And Mallory says we must form ‘operational procedures’! ” He shook his head at Selass’s concerned blinking. Her tail was rigid with tension. “Fear not! I will be a model pupil! It does amuse me, though.”
“What?”
“To ‘relearn’ how to handle my very own Home, I must practice by controlling their tiny launch!”
They stood together in silence as the great vessel was maneuvered entirely into the basin. Huge bumpers dropped into place and a tally was made of every object that had once supported the destroyer so they’d know nothing protruded from the flat, permanent trestle below. Only then were the pumps engaged.
“How long will it take?” Selass asked.
“A day. Perhaps more. Not as long as it took to empty for Walker. Salissa ‘displaces’ a great deal more water! Is that not a fascinating term? It has no real meaning in situations other than this, because Salissa cannot displace enough water to be even noticed in the wide ocean of the world, but here, because of her size, there is far less water in this dry dock, even though the level is the same as before!”
“I have heard the term,” Selass admitted, “when the Amer-i-caans discuss the size of the new construction ships. Evidently, they do not weigh the ships themselves, but the water they push aside! How can they do such a thing?”
“Mathematics. They are fiends for it in all things. Everything you see that they have made involves mathematics and the most precise measurements imaginable. It is amazing and stirring, but it makes me somewhat sad as well.”
“Why, Father?”
“Well, it is yet another example of how things have changed. Nothing will be built by eye again. Artwork may survive, but the talent, the skills passed down from one maker to the next, will be supplanted by mathematics! The guilds are howling, much like our wing clans did when they learned our Home would lose its wings! I am but an example. I have spent my life learning to move Salissa from place to place, and still I do not know everything there is to know about that. Now I must learn to drive a little boat before I will know the first thing about moving my Home again.”
“You agreed.”
“Yes, I did, and it is well. I will move her again, and when I do
… I am informed”-he grinned-“she will be a weapon the Grik cannot match. I would… I have sacrificed much for that. So will Geran-Eras when she allows the same alterations to Humfra-Dar. But what of the builders, the makers of things? Soon, any leeching pit turner will be able to operate a machine that will quickly make things a shipwright has spent his life learning to build!” He shook his head, part in wonder and part in sadness. “What’s more, that pit turner will be able to do it quicker and better and exactly the same every time.”
“You sound as if you wish the Amer-i-caans never came.”
“No. That is ridiculous. They have saved us. We would be filling Grik bellies if not for them. But in a way, as much as we fought to survive, we, the People, also fought for things to remain the same. I know that is what Nakja-Mur fought for, but deep down, even he knew it could never be. I will miss the old ways. It was a good, happy life. If this war ever ends, and it must end in victory, I know not what the world will be like. I do know it will be different. Let us just hope it will be different in a good way… and that we will live to see it.”
“She’s up!” Clancy shouted, racing up Donaghey ’s companionway. Matt and those gathered with him on the quarterdeck turned toward the exuberant outburst. Donaghey was moored a short distance from the rebuilding dock and many of the AEF’s officers were aboard for a conference of sorts. “She’s up and floating and there’re no leaks worth a mention! Walker ’s off the bottom and Lieutenant Tucker sends her love!” There was a resounding cheer and Matt’s ears heated just a little.
“Mr. Clancy,” he said, unable to summon a frown, “that’s wonderful news and I’m glad you shared it with us all, but the last part may have been meant as a private message.”
Clancy halted his dash and his face went white. “Uh… oh. Ah, sorry, Skipper! I’m so sorry!”
“Oh, shut up,” Garrett said, grinning. “That part isn’t news!” There was more laughter. “What’s the first part say?”
Jim Ellis retrieved the message form and scanned it. He looked at Captain Reddy and Matt nodded. “It’s true. Walker ’s been moved to the fitting-out pier and Big Sal ’s gone in the tank.” He chuckled. “Ben saw fit to celebrate with a flyover. One plane had to land on the bay and be towed in! Let’s see. Tassat was launched and has been moved to the new fitting-out pier. The new generators are doing swell, but they’ve had a couple of engine casualties.” He looked at Matt. “Hmm. Hope we don’t have any out here. Says it wasn’t much of a deal, but still.” He looked back at the page. “Still no word from Laumer and ‘Task Force S-19.’ Palmer got that one signal that they were about to try the gizmo, then nothing. He figures it cooked the transmitter.” He glanced at Clancy, who’d suddenly stiffened. He and Palmer had argued a lot over the design. “Anyway, they’re probably fine. Saan-Kakja arrived safely at her brother’s city and they made a successful test transmission of their set-”
“Yes, sir,” Clancy interrupted. “I picked it up.”
