Pack Rat held the blanket at arm’s length and wrinkled his nose. «Smells mostly like Silva sweat to me,» he said.
«Goddamn little hairball.»
On the deckhouse, Dowden took off his hat and ran shaking fingers through his greasy hair. The captain’s expression was like stone as he calculated the angle. How could he be so calm? What he didn’t see was Matt’s left hand shaking at his side and the typhoon of acid roiling in his stomach. His right hand was on the wheel, the only thing that kept it still.
«Signal to Mahan: Hold on.» Matt waited a moment while the message was passed. A high, fluffy cloud passed overhead, dulling the glare of the sun on the water and he looked quickly forward to check the angle of his ship once more.
«Starboard ahead full,» he said quietly.
Black smoke chuffed skyward from the aft stacks and Walker’s stern crouched down. Vibration quickly built as the old destroyer leaped from the block.
«She’s comin’ up!» Silva bellowed unnecessarily as the cables raced from the depths once more. Fifty, sixty, seventy yards — the distance quickly grew. There was a hundred yards of cable. Suddenly there came a tremendous, wrenching groan and it felt as if Walker had slammed into a wall of rock. Crewmen were thrown to the deck and the bow heaved to port, nearly spinning the wheel out of the captain’s hand. Then, as quick as that, Walker lunged free and resumed her dash away from Mahan.
«All stop!» Matt cried.
Dowden passed the word and then ran to the rail. Below him, Silva and Laney were trying to heave on the line that trailed over the side. «Do we have it?» he shouted down.
«Aye, sir! And it’s heavy enough! I hope we didn’t yank Mahan’s shaft and turbine too!» A cheer built as men and ’Cats picked themselves up and word quickly spread forward.
Dowden pounded the rail in triumph. «Quit fooling around with that line, men. You’ll never lift it without a winch!»
«Ain’t tryin’ to lift it, sir, just want to feel if it hits bottom. We got three hundred feet of line and three hundred twenty feet of water — we think.»
Dowden’s face grew troubled. «Well. let us know.»
Walker’s momentum bled off until she coasted to a stop about a quarter mile from her anchored sister. At rest, she had a slight list to port, caused by the weight of the screw. Silva was the last to let go of the cable. «Swingin’ free and easy, Mr. Dowden,» he announced.
Spanky sighed with relief and turned to relay the report from the engine room. «Seals are fine, Skipper. No more water coming in than usual.»
«Mahan reports the same,» Riggs said from behind them as he watched Mahan’s signal light with a pair of binoculars. He lowered them to his chest. «Thank God.»
Matt nodded, keeping his hand on the wheel so it wouldn’t betray him. «Thank Him indeed,» he said. «Good work, Mr. McFarlane. Pass the word to all hands: Well done.» He grinned because of one selfish, perverted, racist bastard.
A lot was up to the girl. They’d allowed Pam a few minutes to assemble a bag and without even a glance at Franklen she rushed to the young victim and began a quick, softly murmured examination. As she and Risa began to ask quiet questions, the grim-faced men turned to the prisoner. Chack crouched beside him in the sand, resting his chin on his cutlass guard, staring at him from inches away, his inscrutable eyes somehow radiating malice.
«Pull his gag,» Gray instructed. He looked at Chack. «If he does anything but quietly answer questions, kill him.» He peered hard into Franklen’s eyes. «You got that? You answer questions and keep a civil tongue, you might just survive this night.»
In spite of himself, Franklen snorted and blood bubbled from his shattered nose. The Bosun shrugged and nodded at Donaghey, who yanked out the nasty, bloody rag.
Franklen coughed and spat for several minutes before his spasm subsided enough that he might be understood. Finally he spoke.
«You gonna kill me any-ay, Chee. You ne’er ’iked me.» Black blood and wrecked lips made him almost unintelligible.
«Not so. I thought you were funny as hell. When you’re made-up, you’re not near as ugly. You can act and talk as much like Al Jolson as anybody I ever seen, and you can tell the funny stories like he can. You just wouldn’t leave well enough alone. Hell, a lot of the coolies and Filipino guys got treated like crap for days after one of your shows. Not to mention the mess attendants.» He snorted. «Besides, I got news for you: you can’t whistle and you can’t sing. and your big Hollywood role model — who loaned you the only popularity you ever had — is a Jew!»
«Das a damn lie!»
Gray rolled his eyes.
«An for de others,» Franklen went on, «they was just lyin’ Tagalog Bastards. Flips. Like Nigras back home. Takin’ jobs in de fact’ries from hardworkin’ white men just ’cause they’d work for less.» He looked around and sneered as best he could. «And now these goddamn ’Cats puttin’ on airs like real destroyermen. Real soljers!»
Gray slapped him hard. He couldn’t help himself.
«Like real people, you mean? You don’t even think of ’em like that, do you? You figure you can just have your way with one like one of your farm animals back home. Is that about the size of it?»
Franklen stared at him defiantly. «You’re one to talk.» His tiny eyes squinted around. «All of you, I bet.» They fell at last on Silva. «And you most of all, you ’Cat-lovin’ traitor!»
Gray and Donaghey almost weren’t quick enough to stop Silva from drawing the long bayonet at his side and ramming it into the top of Franklen’s head. Chack stood up, though, and watched Silva’s reaction with interest — as well as that of his sister, who came partly uncoiled from around the victim Pam was tending. With both a shudder and a sense of wonder, he realized their «carrying on» couldn’t be quite entirely a joke after all. Whatever it was, he was certainly getting a major contrast lesson in Silva and Risa’s relationship as opposed to others that were possible.
«We can’t get anywhere with him.» Donaghey sighed emotionlessly. «He just don’t get it.»
«I’ll get through to him,» Silva said softly, resheathing his bayonet and dropping to his knees in the sand. The two ’Cats who’d been holding Al fought his struggnt>a stared across the tent at the intensity of the eyes that glowed back at him from the females. One was filled with a murderous passion and the other. similar, but with a measure of devastation he’d seen only once before. In the belly of Revenge when they took the ship from the Grik and rescued the «provisions» there. He’d never been the sensitive sort and he’d used women like toys himself, but this. He almost felt ashamed to be a man. And to add a measure of icy mercury to his shame and his resolve, it suddenly dawned on him that this was the first time he’d ever seen a Lemurian teenage female seem just like a vulnerable, devastated, teenage girl. He was filled with a smoldering rage like he’d never known. Pam’s frequent glances in his direction weren’t much different from those of the Lemurians.
«I’ll tell you something, Al. I like these ’Cats. A hell of a lot better than I like you. And I do think of ’em as ‘people.’ Hell, maybe even human. They’re a lot more human than you are; that’s a fact. I’ve fought with ’em and worked with ’em and spilled my blood alongside ’em. We’ve helped them and they’ve helped us.» He pointed at the crumpled child. «I don’t recognize her after what you done, but I bet I’ve fought alongside her!» He looked intently at Franklen. «The way I hear it, you never fought alongside anybody. Why don’t you tell us what you’ve done for ‘us humans’ since we got here, Al, ’cause by all accounts, it ain’t much. You supported Kaufman’s mutiny against Mr. Ellis, and look how many died because of that.»