expedition’s titular leader, and they hadn’t even started out yet. Now it looked like his two biggest men were about to have at each other.
Horn stopped in front of Dennis and laid his burden on the ground. “Not as easy to find as you should have been.”
Silva shrugged. “Hey, I’m a busy man! Mr. Sandison’s had me jumpin’ up and down an’ flappin’ my arms over in Ordnance, and Mr. Letts has had me figgerin’ up ever’thing we might ever need to pull this stunt. Then, once in a while, Mr. Cook needs me for somethin!”
Noticing Cook for the first time, Horn saluted the boy. “Good morning, sir!”
“Good morning, ah, Gunnery Sergeant Horn,” Cook replied.
Silva snapped his fingers. “That’s right, you two already met.” He looked at the old Lemurian sergeant Moe, who’d also stepped closer. “Been trompin’ around out in the brush, learnin’ the primordial ropes of the neighborhood. Hey! See any super lizards?”
Moe shook his head. “No super lizards,” he said. “We kill some rhino pigs, though.”
“Hmm. So Gunny Horn here really don’t know what he’s getting himself into then,” Silva said. He looked at the man. “Maybe you oughta stay here, learn how to be a Marine on this world and kill Griks. You could take up knittin’ or croquet.”
“In honest, you don’t know what you get in to, Si’va,” Moe quipped, then shrugged. “Me neither. I rather stay here.”
“I’ve been cooped up in one place too long,” Horn grumbled. “I’d like to stretch my legs. From what I hear, there’ll be plenty of Grik to kill when we get back.”
There was still a palpable tension between the two men. Finally, Silva revealed his gap-tooth grin. “Well? You still got it, Gunny?”
Horn grinned back and fished his dog tags from around his neck. “Japs would’ve taken it if I had it in a suitable, jewel-encrusted gold setting.” The tags slid down the chain, and Horn displayed a human tooth.
“Ha!” Silva barked.
“Is that… yours?” Cook asked, amazed.
“Yep. Gunny Horn… extracted it for me one night in Shanghai!”
“Saved your useless life!”
“I misremember the details,” Silva grudged. “Last time I ever went ashore with Dean Laney, though, I’ll tell you that!”
“Laney,” Horn spat. “Of all the really useless bastards to show up here-”
“So… you two are friends?” Cook ventured hesitantly, wondering what on earth had required Horn to- apparently-knock Silva’s tooth out to (evidently) save his life.
“Hell no!” Dennis said, indignant. “He’s a Marine!” He looked seriously at Horn. “But I won’t never worry about my back in a fight with him around.” He reached over and ruffled Lawrence’s crest.
“Sto’ that!” Lawrence yelped.
“’Specially with ol’ Larry along,” he placated his Grik-like friend. “Won’t be much for me to do but see the sights, er”-he laughed at Horn’s expression-“what was it? Chase butterflies!”
“Chasing butterflies is against the rules.” Horn grinned back.
“Except along Soochow Creek,” Silva agreed, mock serious, and both men exploded in laughter.
Utterly mystified, and wondering if he ever would-or wanted to-hear the tale Silva and Horn shared, Cook glanced at the cart that should be bringing the last of their supplies. “Oh no!” he breathed when he saw the cart’s lone passenger hop down. Nurse Lieutenant Pam Cross wore a light, linenlike smock and trousers of the nearly universal tie-dyed camouflage adopted from the Sa’aarans. She reached up and grabbed a medical pack and a Blitzer Bug submachine gun off the cart and carried them over to the suddenly speechless group.
“What’re you dopes gawkin’ at?” she demanded.
“Why… you, I s’pose,” Silva said evenly. “Just weren’t expectin’ you to show up here, all dressed up like you thought you was goin’ with us.”
“This outfit needs a doc,” Pam said simply, defiantly. “I’m it.” She handed Cook a sheet of rough paper. “Adar’s orders.”
“Bullshit,” Silva said more harshly. “We’re headed off to make contact with them Injun jungle lizards-which might be hostile as hell-through some of the scariest country we know of on this screwed-up world! This ain’t no trip fer-”
“For what?” Pam demanded. She gestured at some of the female Lemurian troops loading gear on the ferry. “For dames? I don’t think you can really stand there an’ say that, you big jerk. The dame famine’s over.”
“Wull… what about Colonel Mallory? Ain’t you two a item? What’ll he say?”
“He left,” Pam said harshly, “just like you have a dozen times. He doesn’t own me,” she snapped ironically, and Silva winced. “Nobody can tell me what I can or can’t do anymore, except a superior officer-an’ I damn sure outrank you. Adar said I could go, an’ so did Mr. Letts. We ain’t short o’ doctors anymore neither.”
“You outrank me, Lieutenant,” Abel Cook observed as neutrally as possible.
Pam shook her head. “I’m medical officer. You command the expedition.”
Without thinking about it, Cook looked at Silva. He might be in command, but everyone, including Adar, knew who was in charge. After a long moment, Silva shrugged, his one eye narrowed to a slit. “Suit yerself, doll,” he grunted, and turned to carry his ammo crate to the ferry. “Let’s get this circus on the road,” he growled over his shoulder.
Maa-ni-la
April 3, 1944
“By the Heavens above,” Saan-Kakja murmured in sick sorrow as USS Walker (DD-163) crept closer to the Navy dock at the Advanced Training Center on Maara-vella. “How often can that poor ship sustain such damage and survive?” she pleaded.
Chack-Sab-At stood beside her, summoned from some training exercises his special Marines had been undergoing. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Isak Rueben was there as well, with the floating dry dock Walker ’s escorting frigate had summoned, and Ambassador Lord Forester had accompanied Saan-Kakja from Maa-ni-la. Also present were General Ansik-Talaa of the new Fil-pin Scouts, Colonel Busaa of the coastal artillery, and quite a few troops and medical personnel who’d rushed down from the hospital and barracks in the booming military town.
Walker was low by the head and had a decided list to port. Gaping holes yawned wide just behind her tall, dingy, half-submerged number, and on the fo’c’sle just forward of the bridge. The bridge structure itself looked warped and disheveled, and the canvas on the rail around the fire-control platform was shredded. Water streamed from within the ship in solid torrents and splashed alongside, and more water ran from temporary hoses attached to auxiliary pumps and coursed along the deck. The forward funnel looked like a ruptured pipe, and the aft funnel was even worse. Smoke streamed only from number two, so the boilers in the aft fireroom had to be cold. The main blower behind the bridge still rumbled, but with an exhausted, hurting gasp. The whole ship looked diseased with rust.
Yet Walker still lived, and her torn battle flag streamed to leeward on the stiff breeze off the nearby mountains. ’Cats in whites stood on the leaning fo’c’sle with lines in their hands, contrasting sharply with the rust, smoke stains, and faded gray paint. The number one gun-all the ship’s guns, Saan-Kakja now saw-were clean and trained fore and aft, and men and Lemurians were on the bridgewing, amidships deckhouse, and fire-blackened aft deckhouse. It was from there, Chack finally told her, that the ship was being conned.
Isak Rueben took the pipe from his mouth and exhaled a stream of rank smoke that smelled like burning leaves and ammonia. He coughed.
“Just as long as her crew can take it, an’ as often as we got the stuff-an’ the gumption-to patch her back up, Yer Excellentness,” he said with uncharacteristic forcefulness. Saan-Kakja looked at the odd, scrawny man and saw tears on his cheeks.
“You are right, of course,” she agreed firmly, but deep down she still wondered.
The tired old ship was finally secured to the dock, and corps ’Cats streamed up the gangplank as quickly as it was rigged. Soon, Walker ’s wounded started coming ashore, helped along or carried on stretchers. Earl Lanier’s stretcher required extra, somewhat sullen bearers, and he waved imperiously as the space alongside the battered ship continued to fill. “Boats” Bashear was still swaddled in bandages, but he strode down the gangway unassisted. There was a sudden commotion aboard Walker as Chief Gray’s distinctive, comforting bellow gathered a side party,
