her reward will be great.”
“ If she survives, and does not go mad. And no doubt you’ve threatened her with the complete ‘treatment’ if she does not cooperate.”
Kurokawa didn’t answer. The other voices in the passageway neared, and he identified them as those of Tsalka and the Chooser. They were attended, as always, by a significant guard. Also among them were three Japanese sailors. The sailors said nothing and wore nervous expressions. Suddenly, Kurokawa missed “General” Niwa, the closest thing he had to a friend. Niwa wasn’t really a friend, of course, but he alone of all the men of Amagi had been truly loyal, he thought, and he’d become a confidant of sorts in a world where Kurokawa had no others. Niwa had gone to Ceylon with General Halik to observe enemy strengths and tactics when the inevitable invasion of that province began. The Grik had scant hope of holding the place, but Regent Tsalka insisted that some effort be made after all. At least they might bleed the “prey”-the very real “enemy” that former “prey” had become- the first true enemy the Grik had ever faced throughout their long history.
“Your ship awaits to take you to inspect the ‘projects’ underway on the continent,” Tsalka hissed. “The Celestial Mother is anxious for a report, and so am I. I would still preserve my regency from the enemy, if possible!”
“All the projects proceed according to plan,” Kurokawa assured him. “You would not… rush me again, would you?”
“Not at all,” Tsalka denied quickly, remembering what happened the last time they struck before Kurokawa said they were ready: The loss of Amagi and most of the “Invincible” Swarm. “I am… anxious, that is all. Word from General Halik hints at some confidence.”
Kurokawa had heard that too, but the confidence involved a scheme to break the Allied blockade so Grik ships, loaded with steel and other war material produced on Ceylon, might escape Colombo-not that Halik thought Ceylon could be saved. Kurokawa sighed and stood from his stool. “Fleet construction and some of the new ordnance principles have struck minor snags, largely due to incompetent labor, but the deadlines will be met. I go there to ensure that they are, and to add certain modifications that have recently struck my fancy. The ‘Army’ plan proceeds even better than expected, as General Esshk can attest.” He gestured at the cell. “These tests confirm yet another of my fancies, that should result in an even greater efficiency among the ‘new’ Army troops and Navy crews. I’m quite excited.”
“What of the aircraft you promised?” Esshk demanded. Kurokawa smoldered. Esshk wouldn’t leave that alone.
“The… ‘aircraft’ I’ve undertaken to design and build are almost ready, in fact,” he stated.
“But they are nothing like the aircraft you promised! They do not resemble your damaged ‘floatplane’ in any way, or the P-B-Y of the Americans that was destroyed,” he said, failing to pronounce the letters P-B-Y properly, although his meaning came across. “I doubt the enemy has been idle. Most likely, they have replaced it by now.”
“They can’t,” Kurokawa assured him, “not with anything nearly as capable, at any rate. Trust me, the aircraft I’ve designed will be more than adequate for the task. Besides, as I’ve said”-he closed his eyes and took a breath-“more often than I can count, Grik are physiologically incapable of operating aircraft forms even remotely similar to our needlessly damaged, and sadly no longer flight-worthy, type ninety-five.”
“If your plane is so badly damaged, why exert so much effort maintaining it?” Esshk asked suspiciously.
“Because it’s a priceless asset, a model for innovation and experimentation,” Kurokawa snapped. “ You forced me to ruin it, but gazing upon it, I still get ideas!”
Esshk seemed mollified. “Possibly, that is reasonable. But the craft your Hij construct!” Esshk almost threw up his hands. “How can such things fly?”
“Very well,” Kurokawa assured. “And while they may be more labor intensive, and expensive in materials”-he shrugged-“we have plenty of both for that project, and they’re significantly less complicated. Before long, we’ll have them in their hundreds, and your doubts will be drowned by awe.”
“They had better be,” Esshk darkly warned, but Kurokawa ignored him. He was still terrified of Esshk, but he was safe from his ire-for now.
“And what of the… issue… in the south and west?” the Chooser suddenly asked, defusing the current tension. “That still remains, and lurks ever larger.”
“Yes, how will we counter that as well?” Tsalka asked. “The creatures there have long been known to be hunters, but we haven’t pushed them. The extent of their realm is limited and known-nothing lies beyond it. The Celestial Mother was ‘saving’ them for a pleasant diversion once the original Grand Swarm eliminated the Ancient Prey once and for all. With the destruction of that, the Invincible Swarm, and the current drain on our resources, we may be vulnerable to even such as they!”
“The drain is only temporary, and our losses will soon be replaced manyfold, with the implementation of the ‘new protocols’ devised by the Chooser, General Esshk, and myself. As for the beings in the south? Her Majesty has asked me to go to them,” Kurokawa said smugly. “She believes since the ‘southern hunter’s’ form is similar to mine, they may be more likely to accept the Offer from me.” He shook his head. “I cannot go myself, of course. I have too much to occupy me here. I will send suitable representatives-who understand the price of failure.”
“The Offer!” Tsalka moaned. “That is scandalous enough! To make the Offer based on what might be instead of what has been, has never happened before!”
“Enough,” Esshk hissed at him. “ She has decided. Precedence constrains you and I, not the Celestial Mother. Do you doubt she may do as she pleases?”
Tsalka lowered his head and blew a gust of air through jagged teeth. “Of course not.”
“So,” Esshk continued, addressing the General of the Sea, “we have brought the Jaaph Hij you requested.”
“Hmm.” Kurokawa lowered his gaze to encompass the three humans accompanying Tsalka’s entourage. He motioned one forward. “Lieutenant Toru Miyata, I believe you are acquainted with the distinguished First General?”
Toru, who looked like a slighter, younger version of Niwa, controlled an impulse to gulp. “Yes, Captain-I mean, General of the Sea Kurokawa!”
“As a junior navigation officer, you’re not essential to the projects underway…”
I’m expendable, Miyata concluded with a sick feeling.
And I therefore proudly accept your enthusiastic offer to lead this important, glorious mission! Given that you are a navigation officer, I trust you of all people to succeed for our Emperor, our.. . allies, and for me.” Kurokawa’s face clouded. “Others may have failed the Emperor, but the navigation division never did, when it came to getting us where we needed to go. For that reason, I hold you almost utterly blameless for the loss of my ship!”
“Wha…” Miyata jerked a bow. “Thank you, sir. May-may I ask the General of the Sea… what I’ve volunteered to do?”
“That’s the spirit!” Kurokawa beamed genuinely. “General Esshk?”
Esshk produced a crude map from the folds of his cloak. “As you may have understood earlier, there’s a group of hunters in the south that we had been ‘saving’ for some time now. They inhabit lands we care nothing for, and cannot escape. They’re completely surrounded by a most hostile sea.” He paused. “But priorities… change.” He pointed. “Here. Their lands surround this place you call ‘Cape Town’ in a rough semicircle extending perhaps three or four hundreds of miles. Quite small, as I said, but they are fierce warriors. Good hunters. The Celestial Mother, in her benevolence, has decided to extend to them ‘the Offer’ to join the hunt. Do you understand what this means?”
Miyata nodded, and, clearing his throat, added a little shakily, “I do.”
“Very well. It will be a difficult journey. We cannot take you all the way by ship. Even if the hunters there did not destroy it, no ship can swim around this ‘Cape of Storms.’ It is hideously cold, and the currents and seas are most intense.” He coughed a Grik laugh. “To my view, the climate there is sufficient reason to leave them with it, but we would fight with them rather than against them just now.”
“In that case, where will I go ashore?” Miyata asked.
“Here.” Esshk pointed. Miyata vaguely recognized the area around the Moamba of his old world, about a hundred and fifty miles east of where Johannesburg should be. “From there, it is a trek of some three hundreds of miles across some of the worst country known. Open rocky plains, much of it, plagued by high winds. And it is cold, cold. There are also large, dangerous beasts”-he jerked his head in a shrug-“but they would never frighten you.” He
