of territory, hundreds of different governments. And you’re trying to tell me—?”
“They want the whole damned place,” said Beast.
“More coming for certain,” said Nagata, nodding.
They exchanged looks. Hopper realized the enormity of what they were discussing. More than that, he considered the distinct possibility that they might be alone in this realization. They had no idea what was happening elsewhere or what others might have figured out. If the aliens were raining down destruction worldwide, launching ships and attack vehicles, then the secret was pretty much out.
But that didn’t seem to match with their method of operation. They were coming across to Hopper as being extremely methodical. Testing, probing, seeing what the humans were capable of doing, while preserving their own resources. It seemed far more likely that they would be concentrating minimal forces here, trying to determine what it was that humans were capable of mounting offensively, so they would know how much of their ships and personnel they’d need to commit. Only then would they send for reinforcements, enough to take whatever they needed and lay waste to whatever they didn’t.
“Not if we can help it,” said Hopper, as much to his inner concerns as to anyone there. He turned to Beast and said briskly, “Damage report.”
“Starboard engine is down. Whatever that thing was, it tore through the drive shaft.”
“Fixable?” said Hopper.
Beast shook his head. “Negative.”
“Port engine?” Hopper was nervous to hear the response. “We’re sitting ducks without it.”
“It tore into the turbines pretty good, but we can fix it.”
Hopper sighed in relief upon hearing that. At least he had some small fragment of good news to which he could cling.
Abruptly Nagata called out something in Japanese. It certainly sounded like an order. In response to it, a short Japanese man with a round face and glasses entered and looked to his commanding officer expectantly. Nagata gestured toward the new arrival and told Hopper, “Lieutenant Commander Hiroki is my chief engineer. He is quite excellent and can help you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need any help,” said Beast. Clearly as far as he was concerned, that was the end of the discussion. He stood up, stooping in order to keep his head clear of the low ceiling, and started for the door, barely giving Hiroki a glance.
He was brought up short, however, when Hopper said sharply, “Beast.” He turned questioningly toward Hopper, who continued in a tone that was gentle but also firm, with a hint of warning that there were bigger things than Beast’s ego at stake. “We are under attack from what appears to be a force from another world.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We have lost two destroyers.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We are effectively dead in the water. Sitting ducks, until you get our engines back online.”
“Yes, sir,” said Beast. He obviously knew where the conversation was going, but was content to let Hopper take it all the way there.
“We’d be appreciative of Captain Nagata’s offer to assist us and would welcome Lieutenant Commander Hiroki’s assistance in our engine room.”
Beast and Hiroki exchanged looks, this towering American and a diminutive Japanese officer. They looked like a comedy duo.
“Sir,” Beast rumbled, “if the lieutenant commander would follow me, I’m sure we have plenty of work for him.”
Nagata nodded to Hiroki, who saluted his captain. Then he stared up at Beast, looking as if he didn’t care in the least that the American had been resistant to working with him. A silent understanding seemed to occur between the two of them and they actually nodded in unison. Beast walked out first and Hiroki followed him from the CIC.
Hopper looked with certainty at Nagata and forced a smile. “They’re gonna get on great.”
Nagata harrumphed.
“So…” Hopper settled into the captain’s chair, feeling awkward in doing so, but knowing it was expected. He stared up at the big screens on the wall that displayed the Hawaiian theater. Using the controls in front of him, Hopper moved an icon to articulate his point. “So, we’re here,” he said, sliding a small boat-shaped image onto the screen. Then he tapped a spot on the map and an arrow appeared. “Pearl Harbor is here. They—whatever ‘they’ are—are here in the middle,” and he created a circle in the general area of the aliens. “We have plenty of conjecture, but ultimately we don’t know for sure their true objective. And at night, without radar, we can’t see them.”
“Correct, but I don’t think they can see us either,” said Nagata.
That possibility had not occurred to Hopper. “Why’s that?”
“Because we’re still floating,” said Nagata.
“Good point. So the radar jamming works both ways,” said Hopper. Then he added reluctantly, “Of course, they could have blown us to hell before the sun set. Why didn’t they?”
“Conserving resources. Maybe they used up their firepower. Maybe they have to recharge or reload their missiles.”
“Which they’ve probably had enough time to do by now. And that brings us back to the theory about their being as blind as us.”
He stared up at his screen, an empty battlefield. Nagata stared at it as well. But where there was just a sense of hopelessness on Hopper’s face, a frustration over the challenge he was facing with no real answer presenting itself, the wheels that were turning in Nagata’s head were practically visible. “There is a way,” he said after a time.
“A way?” said Hopper.
“A way of seeing them, without seeing them.”
Hopper had had a brief surge of hope, but when Nagata said that, it was like the air going out of a balloon. “Is this going to be some kind of
“The book is Chinese.” There was mild annoyance in Nagata’s voice.
Hopper couldn’t have given a damn at that moment.
“Yeah, well, I don’t understand the damned thing. Not a word of it.”
“My way is much more simple,” said Nagata.
“And what would that be?”
“We’ve been doing it to America for twenty years.”
Now Hopper’s attention was firmly engaged. He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “How?” he said so slowly it became a three-syllable word.
“Water,” said Nagata. He said it with a touch of pride, as if quite pleased with himself that he was having the opportunity to inform some dumb-ass American about something the Japanese had pulled over on them.
“Water?” said Hopper slowly. It didn’t make any sense to him.
“Water displacement. We can tell where your ships are by the amount of water displacement.”
Hopper felt as if he were being left further and further behind. “How do you trace water displacement?”
“Tsunami buoys.”
“Tsunami buoys?” That actually sounded vaguely familiar to Hopper, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard it.
“You have them surrounding your islands,” said Nagata. “Transmitting displacement data. We hack into their transmission. Form a grid and identify military ships based on displacement signature.”
Hopper stared at him. He felt a degree of grudging admiration. “You sneaky bastards.”
“We would practice it as a contingency plan should we lose fire control radar.”
Hopper waggled a scolding finger at him, as if chastising a child. “Sneaky, tricky, dirty playing.”
Nagata didn’t seem the least bit chagrined. “Rough world,” he said indifferently.
“I like it. Can you do that? Here? Now?”
