“That could take some time,” Gray said, scratching the stubble on his chin. They finally had razors again, and Matt wasn’t the only clean-shaven human in the Alliance anymore.
“Yes,” Chack said, “and we know where they must be!”
“ If Okada was right and they really did set up around where Sapporo ought to be… Damn, I need a chart!” Matt said. The Imperials knew almost nothing of that region. “Governor Radcliff, could I trouble you to send a runner to my ship? Or maybe to Lieutenant Haan’s Finir-Pel? His charts may be more up to date than Walker ’s. If we can compare where Hidoiame was last seen to where we suspect her base might be, maybe we can catch her before she scoots!”
“What are you talking about?” Sandra suddenly demanded, looking at Matt with stormy eyes. “ You’re not going after her!” The Imperials around the table were visibly shocked by her outburst, but Matt just looked at her. “It’s not that you shouldn’t go or I don’t want you to,” Sandra continued. “That’s true enough. But I forbid it because you can’t!”
“You forbid?” Matt demanded, eyes wide.
Sandra stood and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Yes! As Medical Officer of USS Walker and Minister of Medicine for the Allied Powers, I declare you, your ship, and her crew unfit to pursue Hidoiame! None of you are sufficiently recovered from your wounds, physical and psychological, and you have neither the strength nor material means to accomplish the mission!”
“Shit!” murmured Silva, too loud again, in a tone that showed admiration for her angle, if not her message. “Look at her go!” The Bosun, face purple, made a savage “cut it” gesture at him.
“I and I alone am the judge of whether or not my ship is fit for action!” Matt said coldly.
“And I say that if you intend to pursue Hidoiame at this time without the rest your crew needs and the refit your ship requires, then your judgment must be impaired by exhaustion, Captain Reddy! You can’t be everywhere at once. You and your crew, your ship, have been too close to the fire for too long, and sooner or later it’s going to burn you up! You know that yourself, but if you can’t see that going after Hidoiame will turn ‘sooner’ into ‘now, ’ then you can’t be thinking clearly! She’s a new ship-faster, heavier, and better armed! How close would you have to get to even damage her with the primitive shells you’ve been forced to use? All that time while you’re trying to close, Walker will be taking fire. And it won’t be cannonballs-it’ll be high-explosive shells, accurately delivered, to kill your crew and your ship!”
Sandra’s argument was beginning to take its toll. She was right, and Matt knew it. Walker had a full load of ammunition for her main battery, all but the Japanese 4.7-inch dual-purpose that had replaced her own damaged number four gun on the aft deckhouse. They had almost shot it “dry,” and other ships and installations armed with the rest of Amagi ’s salvaged secondaries had priority for resupply. The black-powder four-inch-fifty shells Walker had taken east and that supply ships had begun stockpiling for her at almost any friendly port she might touch, had worked better than they had any right to expect, but they just didn’t have the range to go up against Hidoiame. But the rogue Japanese destroyer they’d left Okada to deal with had proven she was just too dangerous to run loose anymore. If they didn’t catch her now, how would they find her later? What if, God forbid, she managed to make it all the way to join Kurokawa and the Grik?
“Aah, Cap-i-taan Reddy?” said Raada-Nin reluctantly. “My manifests include supplies dispatched for the… main-tin-aance of your ship. Among those supplies is a quantity of ammunition for your main baat-tery. New ammunition.” He blinked apology at Sandra, but he couldn’t keep it secret.
“New?”
“Ay, Cap-i-taan. From Mr. Saan-dison in Ord-naance.” He fished in his belt pouch and extended a letter. “This is from him to you. I would have left it for you had we already off-loaded and sailed for New Bri-taan Isles, but may-be you look at it now?”
Wordlessly, Matt took the letter and read.
To: Captain Reddy, CINCAF, HCAC, and CO USS Walker (DD-163)
From: Lt. Cmdr. B. Sandison, Acting Minister of Ordnance
Dear Skipper,
I don’t know if this will find you, but if it does, I hope it finds you well and already on your way home. You’ll be glad to hear that we’ve finally solved the guncotton issue and I’m really kind of embarrassed how easy it was once we quit trying to make it so hard. Evidently, cellulose is cellulose, to a larger degree than I had imagined. Anyway, we now have some four-inch-fifty shells I think you’re going to like. I won’t go into all the tech stuff here-some is stenciled on the crates and there’s more for Campeti in an insert pamphlet-but basically, pressures look good (17.4 tons). I’m sure glad we didn’t fork over the copper rods for making the pressure disks! Who knows what kind of “copper” they are, and how to duplicate it! We tested the shells in Old Number Four, as we call her (she’s shipshape again, by the way), and S-19’s deck gun. I’m happy to report that the trajectories matched book specs. There’s still something screwy with the burn rate or the alloy we’re using for the brass shells is a little off, because sometimes (around 10 percent) they split, but no chamber damage has been observed.
The projectiles aren’t armor piercing-what’s out there to pierce? — and we stuck with the old, specified 1.1-pound black-powder bursting charge, but the projectiles are the proper 33-pound iron with brass bearing bands. They shoot straighter, hit harder, and pack nearly the same wallop our old HE did. I think you’ll like them.
I’ve sent close to a full load out with Lieutenant Raada-Nin. He has orders to leave half at Respite and take the other half to Scapa Flow if you don’t meet. More are already at Manila, along with all the specs to start production on them, as well as the Jap secondaries scattered around.
Other projects are proceeding in every department, and I hope to have some very pleasant surprises for you soon.
Respectfully,
B. Sandison
Lt. Cmdr. USNR
Still without speaking, he handed the letter to Sandra, who scanned it incredulously. “So?” she demanded harshly, tossing the sheet toward the Bosun. “What difference does that make? Maybe you’ve got better ammunition now. What chance will that give you?”
“An even chance,” Matt replied, “and that’s better than usual.”
“Even,” Sandra snorted. “Right. That’s like saying an old man is ‘even’ with a teenager because he can spit just as far.”
“Lady Sandra!” Emelia gasped. She was not above such disputes with her husband, but never like this, in front of others, and she was keenly aware of the presence of all the Imperial men-something Sandra seemed to have forgotten.
Sandra suddenly looked around at the uncomfortable or disapproving stares, and realized with sick certainty that her outburst had doomed her cause. If only she’d waited, tried to reason with Matt in private, she may have stood a chance. But now she’d backed him into a corner, in front of men-their allies-who would think him weak if he conceded to her… and they could not think the Commander in Chief of All Allied Forces was weak. The Lemurians would understand how crazy it was for Matt to risk himself and his ship like this unless the situation was utterly desperate. The whole Alliance could crumble if something happened to him; he was still the primary unifying force. But as much as she knew the Imperials respected and honored Matt as a warrior and even as the savior of their country, they had a strong emperor again, and a country with a long tradition of unity. They just wouldn’t get it yet, wouldn’t think that way… It was then that she caught the very distressed expression on Ambassador Forester’s face. Or would they? She thought.
“The young lady may have a point, you know,” Forester said in a soothing tone. “Granted, her outburst was… unseemly, but the traditions of the Americans are different from ours and it is understandable if she is upset. We were discussing her wedding just a short time ago, after all.”