mouth shut. Kurokawa, on the other hand, continued. “You would deprive me of my own best counselor?”
Esshk peered at him. “I deprive myself of Halik, but then, I still have you. I have been given to understand you need no counsel.”
“Not at sea!” Kurokawa sputtered. “But I am no land general! I have never claimed to be. I do understand land strategy, and how it must be combined with that of the sea, but to fully appreciate that combination, I need my best land tactician.” Kurokawa paused and blinked, realizing Esshk had goaded him into admitting, for the first time, that he didn’t know everything. Damn him! Esshk might only now be learning the subtleties of modern war, but he had long been a chess master of debate and intrigue. Kurokawa had almost forgotten that. He had also forgotten, or finally learned, how important it was to have someone near him he could trust-somewhat-and even speak candidly with on occasion. Niwa, subservient and cowed as he was, was the closest thing to a “friend” Kurokawa had on this world. Now Esshk would deprive him of even that.
“Exactly,” said Esshk, and he drove the final nail. “General Niwa will be more valuable to us both after this experience. He will be General Halik’s Vice Commander, and the two of them will learn from each other and the enemy at the same time. At least one should survive to return with the tactical observations we desire.”
“Thank you, Noble First,” Halik said humbly, and it suddenly became clear to Kurokawa that Halik had requested this! Why? He looked at Niwa and saw his nervous expression. How can I use This? he thought. I stood up for Niwa and he will remember That. Niwa has an opportunity To gain Halik’s and even Esshk’s trust more fully Than I ever could. I will… miss… Niwa, but perhaps This might work To my advantage.
Kurokawa gave Niwa a small but significant nod. “Oh, very well,” he said. “It does make sense, I suppose. You may have him so long as I have your word he will not be required to ‘destroy himself ’ or any such nonsense if he and General Halik cannot save Ceylon.”
Esshk seemed surprised. “General of the Sea Kurokawa,” he exclaimed, “have I just seen you display concern for a member of your pack? How uncharacteristic!”
Kurokawa inwardly smoldered. He knew Esshk would take it that way and it exposed a vulnerability, but it was worth it to gain Niwa’s ultimate trust.
“I am concerned for both General Niwa and General Halik, as well as our cause. We cannot spare either of them.”
“There we are agreed,” Esshk said. “Fear not, the destruction of Uul warriors and their leaders is at an end. You were right regarding how wasteful it is. Even in defeat, not all are ‘made prey,’ and even those who are… provide a valuable service.”
Kurokawa wondered about that last comment, but shuddered slightly at what he thought it probably meant.
Esshk appeared satisfied with the proceedings thus far. He lapped at a bowl of… something, then looked expectantly at Kurokawa.
“Mmm,” Kurokawa said, looking at Niwa. “General Niwa, I believe you know General Halik?”
Niwa controlled an impulse to gulp. “Yes, Cap-General of the Sea.”
“Good. I will therefore accept your enthusiastic offer to participate in this important and glorious mission!” Kurokawa affected a false, grotesque smile.
“Uh… thank you, sir.” Niwa looked at Halik, who was staring back at him now.
“That’s the spirit!” Kurokawa beamed genuinely. “General Esshk?”
Esshk looked at Halik, then Niwa. “You will leave almost immediately with a significant escort of ships,” he said. “It is a dangerous sea. The escort will be loaded with supplies, but they well might be the last we send. Try to defend Ceylon as long as you can, and fill every homebound ship as full of ‘steel’ as possible. Those ships will likely not return to you.”
“Yes, First General,” Halik said.
“The two of you must defer to Vice Regent N’galsh, of course, but in reality you will command Ceylon and all of India. Every Hij and Uul there will obey you. Use them, but try not to waste them. Send me more like yourselves if you discover any.” Esshk stood. “Now, we all have much more to do than lounge about, enjoying the view.” Niwa almost coughed. “I suggest,” Esshk continued, “that Generals Halik and Niwa remain here a short while.” He looked at them. “Get to know one another better. Decide if you have any special requirements.”
The meeting broke up then. Even Kurokawa disappeared into the swirling dust that seemed to be growing worse, leaving Niwa and Halik alone under the increasingly dubious shelter.
“Why?” Niwa asked without preamble.
“You interest me, General Niwa,” Halik said. “I think I might learn much from you.”
“Like what?”
“Like how to survive when you are surrounded by enemies. I have learned to do that in the arena, but to do so every day… that is different.”
“What do you mean?”
Halik rasped a chuckle. “I think you know.” He paused, catching occasional glimpses of the horror in the dust. “We are warriors, you and I, accustomed to holding the sword in our hands. Our masters have never done that; they are not allowed, so they fight with their minds and words and barely know the feel of a sword. We are important to them because they think we can fight with our swords and minds.” Halik looked at Niwa, and Niwa would have sworn the Grik was excited! “We will leave this place! That cannot disappoint you. Then we will see if they are right!”
CHAPTER 3
Yap Island (Shikarrak)
Chief Gunner’s Mate Dennis Silva savagely hacked at the indifferent army of spiny, bamboo-like shoots standing before him like a shield wall of personal foes. The swath of “ bamboo” couldn’t be more than a mile wide at most-judging by the crummy “chart” Silva had, the whole island wasn’t much wider than that across this point- but it seemed endless, and the party’s progress through it had been excruciatingly slow. Even the mighty Dennis Silva was beginning to tire. Sweat glistened on his skin, collecting grime and fragments of the shredded flora, and the patch covering his ruined left eye was soggy and blotched with salt. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and untwisted the canteen from the rope belt around his waist. Sloshing it experimentally, he unscrewed the cap and took a shallow swig.
“Now I know what a ant feels like,” he pronounced a little breathlessly. “ ’Cept I don’t guess ants have to gnaw their way through everything to get anywhere.”
The rest of the small party accompanying him was at least as tired as he was after swinging their decidedly inferior cutlasses to widen the path behind him. Silva was doing the lion’s share of the work, but the steel in his pattern of 1917 Navy cutlass was of infinitely better quality. In response to his statement, his companions could manage only a few gasping grunts. The heat was hellish and the humidity oppressive, but the sun didn’t bother Silva anymore. He was tanned so dark, his various smudged tattoos had become merely darker, unrecognizable discolorations on his skin. In contrast, his now longish hair, matted beard, and the light, curly hair that generally covered him from neck to feet had turned almost pure white. For clothing, he wore only his battered “chief ’s” hat the Bosun had given him, a pair of cut-off Lemurian-made dungarees, and “go-forwards” he’d fashioned for himself.
He was otherwise equipped with a large shooting pouch, slung over his shoulder, made from the almost indestructible hide of a rhino pig. It contained all the implements, components, and accessories necessary to keep the “Doom Whomper,” the. 100-caliber rifled musket he’d made from a Japanese anti-aircraft gun, fed, maintained, and happy. He’d given his pistol belt to Sandra Tucker-she knew how to handle a 1911 Colt-and there wasn’t much ammo for it anyway. She could use it if she needed it, but it was his job to keep that from happening. Instead of the 1911, Silva still carried his cutlass, and a long-barreled flintlock pistol he’d taken from the Company assassin Linus Truelove. Silva expected, with some satisfaction, that Truelove had been reduced to a few floating ashen specks, when Silva had contrived to blow up Ajax, but the pistol was a dandy. It would shoot only once before reloading of course, but they had plenty of ammo for it.
He took the opportunity to fish a whetstone from his pouch and run a few swipes down each side of his
