The forts answered the signal with rockets of their own-instead of roundshot from their formidable guns-and Jenks’s tension ebbed a notch. Cannon suddenly lit the sea to the southwest, opening what should be a fairly one- sided mauling of the Dom blockade, and Jenks ordered several troop transports that had been hanging back to join the three DDs. Soon, the entire squadron passed beneath the quiet guns into the confines of the bay, and saw the greatfish oil lamps of Elizabethtown glowing dimly off Achilles ’ larboard bow. Another rocket arced, sputtering into the sky from the surface of the water just ahead.
“Picket boat,” Grimsley suggested, and Jenks nodded in the darkness.
“I shouldn’t wonder. Ring ‘steerageway only,’ and send ‘reduce speed’ to all ships. Stand by to heave to-we shall see what the picket has to say.”
“Very good, sir.”
Jenks hurried down from Achilles ’ flying bridge amidships, between the two great paddle boxes, and moved forward while Grimsley repeated his orders. Gun’s crews stood ready around their squat, heavy weapons, and the men brought their forefingers to their brows as he passed. Reaching the fo’c’sle, he found the Lemurian Marine captain Blas-Ma-Ar with several of her contingent who’d joined Achilles from Maaka-Kakja. One of Walker ’s Lemurian gunner’s mates was also there-Stumpy, he was called, because of some misfortune that had significantly shortened his tail. Jenks had kind of temporarily inherited him after the fierce running fight south of Saint Francis. Someone had to remain with him as a technical liaison, and Stumpy had volunteered. The ’Cat liked Jenks, and with all the Imperial backstabbing that had been going on, he also considered himself “on loan” as one of Jenks’s personal guards. Currently, Stumpy was poised by the American searchlight mounted at the bow. The light was powered by electrical generators spun by steam from Achilles ’ own boiler. It wasn’t as large as the lights on Walker, but Jenks remained amazed by the ingenious device.
“Ahd-mi-raal,” Blas greeted Jenks with a salute.
“Captain Blas. You are ready?”
“Of course, sur.” Blas and her mixed regiment of Lemurian and Imperial Marines, apportioned between the three DDs, would go ashore immediately, with Jenks to organize the landing and deployment of the Marines on the transports.
“Very well,” Jenks said, and turned to the short-tailed ’Cat near the light. “Do not blind them, Mr… Stumpy,” he cautioned. “Cast the beam above them, if you can.”
“Ay, sur,” Stumpy replied, and twisted a large switch.
A solid beam of light stabbed into the dark, humid air, the peripheral glow revealing a small cutter off the starboard bow. Men could be seen scrambling about excitedly on her deck, clearly startled by the blinding light.
“Ahoy the cutter!” cried Jenks through a speaking trumpet. “I am Lord High Admiral Jenks-perhaps better remembered here as Commodore. I command the Allied fleet here to relieve the Enchanted Isles at last! I beg to meet with Governor Sir Thomas Humphries!”
“Aye! Aye!” came a tinny voice in response. “Which we were sent ta meet ye-but could ye stysh that infernal light!”
“You may secure your searchlight, Mr. Stumpy,” Jenks said, then raised the trumpet to his lips again as the searing beam faded. “Make a light of your own,” he instructed the men on the cutter, “and we will follow you in. Be quick about it; there is no time to lose!”
Achilles, Mertz, and Tindal moved alongside the government docks, where their lines were secured by excited, willing hands. There was some confusion and considerable shouting back and forth between Tindal, Mertz, and the shore, since the two screw steamers didn’t need the long boom bumpers that Imperial side-wheelers required-and, of course, there was considerable surprise when Lemurian Marines began streaming ashore and demanding cooperation and assembly areas from stunned locals who’d never seen a Lemurian before. The ’Cats were accustomed to Imperials, and humans in general, so it was no big deal to them, and Jenks was relieved and impressed by the way they deflected a potentially tense time by simply and professionally carrying out their assigned tasks with occasional reassuring shouts of “Don’t worry about it, fellas. We’re on your side!” The mixture of well-fed, fresh-uniformed Imperial Marines helped, no doubt, but the long-suffering garrison of the Enchanted Isles was surprisingly willing to take them at their word and any fear that Elizabethtown was being invaded by “creatures” was short-lived.
“Admiral Jenks! Admiral Jenks!” came the excited shout of a thin man dressed in bedraggled civilian clothes, pressing his way through the disembarking troops with a small, wide-eyed escort of equally thin and somewhat shabby garrison regulars. “Sir Humphries’s factor for Admiral Harvey Jenks!”
“Here I am, sir,” Jenks said, striding down with Captain Blas, Stumpy, and some other officers in tow. Stumpy wore a Navy khaki kilt and T-shirt and still carried the ’03 Springfield he’d had since Saint Francis. Blas wore her blue Marine kilt and the new camouflage battle dress with the tie-dyed tunic and painted rhino-pig armor. Her black cartridge box and bright Baalkpan Arsenal musket were ready for business.
The civilian looked at her, his dark eyes stilled by wonder before fixing on Jenks. “Lord High Admiral!” he said, and bowed, removing the large tricorn from his head. “Your… astonishingly delivered message was received with great relief, sir, but I frankly confess a personal unpreparedness for the appearance of the allies you mentioned! I thank God for them, and no mistake, but they are not the only surprise. There would also seem to be a battle in the north…”
“Indeed. Where is Sir Humphries?” Jenks demanded.
“He awaits you yonder”-the man pointed-“beyond the press. He craves that you enlighten him further about your plans.”
“Take me to him, and I shall do so at once.”
“Of course.” There was just enough light upon the dockyards to see the factor’s expression change. “A word first, sir. The governor is… not the man he was. None of us are, I fear-our resources and resilience have nearly reached the bitter end. But Sir Humphries has suffered even more than most, for many reasons.”
Governor Sir Thomas Humphries had been a cheerful, corpulent man, devoted to his studies of the natural world, when last he and Harvey Jenks met. He’d been an effective governor of this tenuous outpost-in his spare time, he’d often joked-but in reality, there hadn’t been much for him to do, and the Enchanted Isles had been the perfect posting for a man of his interests. Seeing him now, Jenks realized Sir Humphries had changed as much as anything else he’d ever known before he met the Americans, before the war began. Where once Humphries would have been fascinated by the appearance of the Lemurians, now his eyes darted fretfully back and forth in the gloom. He was no longer overweight or cheerful either, and seemed to wear his former self like a baggy suit.
“Damn me, Jenks, it is you conducting this circus!” the diminished man managed, gazing about. “Thank God you’re here! Too late for so many, I’m afraid-my poor tortoises! — but here you are at last. The princess?”
“Safe, Sir Humphries.” It occurred to Jenks that the last the governor would have heard of him was his expedition to seek the lost princess, and there was no way he could know of all that transpired since. Some few ships had escaped the Enchanted Isles to report that the Doms were coming, but apparently no word had made it back until the leaflets were dropped. Well, this wasn’t the time to catch him up on everything.
“Thank heavens the dear child is safe,” Humphries continued. “I met her once, you know? I believe she was two or three. Couldn’t possibly remember me…” His voice trailed off; then he spoke with more energy. “I’ve read of these ape folk, of course, in the Founders’ logs. You’ve found them again, have you? However did you train them as troops?” He paused, scrutinizing Blas. “And females! Extraordinary!”
“Sir Humphries, I cannot even begin to tell you all that has occurred these last months in the time we have, but these”-he nodded at Blas and Stumpy-“are not ape folk; they are Mi-Anaaka, or Lemurians, and firm allies of the Empire against the bloody Doms. And honestly, sir, if anyone has been training troops, theirs have been training ours!”
“Extraordinary!” Humphries repeated. “Are there tortoises in their lands? There are none left here, you see, except for a very few I could not bear to see eaten. But the Doms have all the other islands, and the tortoises and other creatures that lived on them were different, unique!” His expression became desolate. “All gone, most likely.”
“A great tragedy, Sir Humphries,” Jenks said, “but we must look to the present for now.” The transports were coming alongside the dock. “You have noticed the battle in the north? Our troops are landing there as we speak under the command of a most able officer, but we must land more forces here to march to his relief as quickly as we can. The enemy will have turned to face him and may yet retain the advantage of numbers. If we strike quickly
