Keje sighed. "You will lose much sleep." He looked at Matt, and his eyes almost pleaded for some reassurance that things weren't as bad as they appeared. Matt couldn't encourage him. "You say these three-pointed symbols represent their ships? Possibly hundreds more of their ships?"
"We think so. Their strategy seems clear, at long last. It's conquest, of course, but I always wondered why, if they were such a big deal, they were just trickling in." He sighed. "Your ancestors were right. They're scared of the water—at least the deep water." He pointed at the Indian Ocean on the chart. There were none of the small islands depicted. Just a large, scary-looking fish.
"Their version of `here be monsters,' I bet," Garrett offered.
"The Western Sea is vast and deep," Adar said. "And there are monsters there. That is why the enemy hugs the coast and why they have taken this long to find us—to conquer their way to us—it would seem."
Matt nodded. "That's exactly right. They seem to have all the territory bordering the . . . Western Sea, all the way to Singapore, although that seems a relatively new addition. Ceylon's their closest major concentration.
The tree symbols seem to indicate settlements of the People they know about. A few even have blood spots beside them. We think that shows where a battle took place."
Keje traced a claw slowly from one spot to the next. "A tree," he said bleakly. "They use a tree to represent us. How appropriate and how . . . wrong." He looked up. "You said you found a human skull as well?" Matt jerked a nod. "I'm sorry to hear it, but how can that be?"
"The same way it happened to your people, Keje," Matt replied woodenly. "He was eaten."
"Saak-Fas saw it?"
Matt nodded. "He described a human being brought aboard—`one like you,' he said—but he had no idea where it happened."
"But how did they . . . get this person?"
"We don't know." Matt gestured at the chart. "They know where Mahan is—or was. But judging by the position fixes the lizard captain noted on the chart, the ship we took was never anywhere near Mahan's last position."
"You think they got this person from another ship?"
"That seems likely, as well as the information where Mahan was."
"Do they have her?" Keje asked.
Matt could only shrug. "They will look for her, if they have not found her already." It wasn't a question but a statement of fact.
"They must not have her!" Adar cried. "For them to have the power you possess . . ." He trailed off.
"They must not have her," Matt agreed.
"What will you do? What must we do?" For the first time since Matt had met Keje, the Lemurian looked afraid.
"Two things," Matt responded. "First, we need help. Baalkpan's in it—they can't leave. But we need more help from Homes like Big Sal." He shook his head. "I really don't know what to do about that. Talk about isolationists! Otherwise, I suggest you put aside your differences, whatever they are, with the Surabayans. It looks like they're next on the list anyway. The enemy doesn't know about Baalkpan, but that can't last. The ships they sent to chart those seas have gone missing, and sooner or later they'll send more. If we help the Surabayans, it'll add depth to our defense and might gain us an ally."
"And second?"
"Find Mahan," Matt said, grimly determined. "We have to get her before the enemy does—or destroy her if they have her."
Keje still seemed overwhelmed. Well, that was understandable. "I never guessed the Grik could be so numerous," he whispered and glanced at Adar. "This map shows lands we never even knew to exist and all are in the realm of this evil!" He looked sadly at their faces. "Yesterday was a great day. A great victory. Or so we thought. Now I see it was less than nothing compared to that arrayed against us. We've won nothing! The fight has not begun!" He gestured vaguely toward the unseen Grik prize floating nearby. "Together, we've destroyed ten of their ships only to learn that is nothing compared to the strength they have! They were mere scouts!" He slammed his hand down upon the chart, claws extended.
"Mapmakers!"
"It doesn't look good," Matt agreed, "but we have won a victory. We've learned what we're up against, which is more than they know." He smirked.
"More than I've ever known."
Keje snorted derisively. "Yes, they face a disorganized mob that numbers less than one to their ten. An unpleasant surprise that will be!"
"No!" said Matt sharply, standing. "They face soldiers! Brave and determined! We boarded their ship with half the numbers we'd hoped—my fault—and fought them one to four! Our losses were grim, but we killed ten for one—in their kind of fight, not ours. They also face cannon, which will be a very unpleasant surprise. And they face Walker. While she floats, she'll never abandon you! I've seen evil before—at least I thought I had— but nothing in my experience compares with what I saw in the bottom of that ship. We've been friends and allies since we met, but honestly, I've often regretted getting my people involved in your war. And that's how I thought of it: your war. I felt kind of like a mercenary, and my men didn't sign up for that. But after last night—and not just because of the human skull—this war against the Grik became just as much ours as yours." He sat, leaning back in his chair.
"Now, we can sit around and mope and whine `woe is me' or we can get ourselves in gear, make the tough decisions, and figure out how to win!" He saw Adar's predatory grin and knew he'd finally won him over.
The Sky Priest probably had more swing with the other Homes than Keje did anyway.
But Keje wasn't out. He leaned forward. "Were you not overwhelmed when first you learned the odds?" Matt was guiltily aware that he'd been "overwhelmed" for the last six months. But this time it was different. The steamroller was coming and his tricycle had a flat, but he'd thrown the blindfold off. Keje huffed. "You'll hear no whining from me!"
Matt stood with Sandra on Big Sal 's battlement, leaning on the rail and watching the setting sun. Below, the victory celebration was still under way. Time enough later for the full extent of the challenge to make itself known. For now, let them enjoy themselves. They'd earned it. Adar swore the weather would remain fine for several days at least, so Matt hadn't ordered the PBY back to Baalkpan. It floated now, bouncing a little on the choppy sea but safe and snug in the sheltering lee of the massive sides of Home. Bradford cut short his safari. For such large creatures, super lizards were surprisingly difficult to find—particularly since his guides had been instructed by Nakja-Mur not to lead him anywhere near one. He'd arrived with the plane and was, even now, examining the "prize" with Spanky, Chief Gray, and a group of Naga's and Adar's acolytes. In the middle distance steamed Walker, festively alight from stem to stern but still screening the revelers against any approaching threat. As it should be.
As she'd always done.
Matt blinked and looked around. It struck him odd that he and Sandra would have the vast expanse of Big Sal 's battlement all to themselves.
Others had been there—Keje, Garrett, Pete, Jarrik—but he hadn't noticed when they left. Weird. Neither had spoken for quite some time, enjoying the companionable solitude.
"It's so sad about Chack," Sandra said, breaking the silence.