“I am, of course, well informed regarding those events that have transpired in Baalkpan today,” he began. That was certainly true. He’d been at the docks himself when his old Home, Big Sal, finally rebuilt and completed as the allies’ first “aircraft carrier,” or more appropriately, “seaplane tender,” got underway and steamed slowly out of the bay under the command of his oldest friend, Keje-Fris-Ar.
Watching that had been a bittersweet experience. His old Home had risen from near destruction to become the most powerful warship known to exist, but she was no longer his Home. Baalkpan was his Home now; he’d made that choice. But Salissa epitomized the changes his society-his world-was undergoing at such inexorable speed. No longer did she stand to sea under her lofty, mighty, beautiful wings. Instead, she belched smoke, and two massive engines turned a single giant screw propeller. She would never be fast, like Walker, but she would always be faster than she’d ever been, and in any direction.
Adar knew Salissa ’s conversion was the only way she would ever survive this new kind of war. It was the only way she could really contribute. Other High Chiefs had volunteered their Homes as welclass="underline" Tassana had offered Aracca, with the consent of all her people. Geran-Eras’s Humfra-Dar was in the dry dock, with work already begun. Still, it made him sad.
“But what news is there from the AEF?” he asked. “I noticed the messenger from the telegraph office seemed more heavily burdened than usual. Has there been a major action?”
“No, sir,” Letts replied. “If there had been, that would’ve been the first thing I told you when you came in.” He shook his head. “No, it’s mostly just a bunch of logistical stuff. Alden and Mr. Ellis are gearing up to jump on that Grik force at Rangoon.” He stood and paced to a map on the wall. “Mr. Ellis was inclined to bypass it at first, but General Alden changed his mind. He thinks a bunch of the Grik that abandoned Singapore might have wound up there by now. Some didn’t break. We still don’t know what to make of that. We’ve got those Grik ‘guards’ Rasik-Alcas had, and I wish we could understand them. They seem to understand’Cat but can’t speak it. You ask me, I think they’re too young. They act crazy to please, like dogs, but don’t seem to really know what’s up.” He scratched his nose. “I sure wish Lawrence was here.”
“As do we all,” Adar agreed. “I sincerely doubt he speaks the same language, though. He had no idea what the aboriginal-I think Mr. Silva called them ‘Injun Jungle Lizards’?-had said to him during their encounter. Perhaps he would be better able to learn their language, or teach them his, however.”
“Yeah. Anyway, it’s starting to look like being on their own for a while kind of ‘wakes them up’ a little, or something. Pete says that gives him the willies.”
“Do you think they might influence this Grik force at Raan-goon?”
Letts shook his head. “Not really, and neither does Pete. Chances are, the Singapore Grik will never even make it to Rangoon. Alden, and Mr. Ellis now too, see the campaign more as a chance to test new tactics and equipment before the bigger push later, than anything else. But face it, Mr. Chairman, our ‘tame’ Grik aside, meeting Lawrence has forced us to realize that the Grik probably aren’t all nuts. They may be born nuts, and the Hij may do their best to keep their Uul that way, but that doesn’t mean they just naturally have to stay that way.”
Adar stroked his whiskers in thought. “A most disturbing… speculation.”
“You said it,” agreed Brister.
“I suppose that leaves only Mr. Mallory’s expedition to discuss,” Adar said.
Riggs looked at the other men, then back at Adar. “Mallory’s little squadron has passed through the Bali Strait and should reach Tjilatjap-’scuse me, ‘Chill-chaap,’ within a few days. They picked up another transport and two hundred more troops and laborers at Aryaal.” He shook his head. “That whole deal is going to be complicated as hell. I really wish we didn’t have to spend the resources on it just now.”
“I agree with you on that,” Brister said, “but think of the payoff if he succeeds! I wish I was with him. He’s going to need a good engineer, and time isn’t on our side. The longer we wait, the more deterioration there will be.”
“He’s got Mikey Monk, Gilbert Yeager, and Jim’s dispatching Isak Rueben to help out.”
Letts laughed. “Both original Mice back in one place, working together! Ha!”
“An effective combination, surely, but who will ‘wrangle’ them?” Adar asked.
“Well, they’re all ‘chiefs’ now, but Monk’s a lieutenant. He worked with Mr. Mallory throughout the development of the Nancys. At least he knows something about airplanes, and Ben Mallory likes him.”
“Yeah, but he’s almost as screwy as the Mice, and all of them will be under the command of a hot-pursuit jock who’s just been given the greatest Christmas present of his life,” Riggs pointed out.
“No, I sent a message to General Alden and he talked Captain Ellis into giving Tolson to Russ Chapelle. Russ has earned her anyway. He’ll take Tolson down to Chill-chaap for two reasons: first, it’ll give the expedition some real defensive firepower if they need it, and second, Russ will assume overall command. Tolson ’s current skipper will get one of the new steam frigates when it arrives.”
“Russ Chaap-elle,” Adar mused. “An interesting choice,” he continued delicately. “He has always struck me as a most formidable man, but perhaps a little… too much like Sil-vaa? In some ways.”
“He is like Silva in some ways,” Letts agreed. “But Silva-if he’s alive-is like a lone marauding wolf that might take on protecting a cub now and then. He’s loyal to the Skipper and damn handy in a fight, but otherwise, his most predictable personality trait is to ‘kill whatever worries you so you won’t have anything to worry about.’ ” Letts shook his head. “Honestly, regardless of the fate of the other hostages Billingsley took, I expect Silva’s dead. I can’t imagine even Billingsley being crazy enough to let somebody that dangerous live.”
There was silence in the War Room for a moment while those present reflected on the probable loss of a bold and valuable warrior, as well as what his death might mean for the other hostages under Billingsley’s control.
“Anyway,” Letts continued, “Chapelle is sort of like Silva. He’s a wolf, but he can lead a pack-or be part of one.” He glanced at Adar. “Sorry for all the human euphemisms. What I mean is that he can be aggressive as hell, but he can also be counted on to follow explicit orders and lead others in carrying them out. He started out as a torpedoman, so he’s got some engineering smarts, but he’s also been exec of two square-riggers now, so we know he can sail, lead, and organize men and ’Cats. With him riding herd on Ben Mallory, I’ll feel more confident that the mission will proceed in an efficient, timely fashion than if the ‘euphoric pursuit jock’ was running the show.”
“Does the ‘euphoric pursuit jock’ know all this yet?” Riggs asked.
“Sorta,” Letts hedged. “He knows he’s in charge of recovering and/or preserving the airplanes, and he’s already done a good job preparing for that. He’s mixed up a quantity of what we hope will serve as high-octane fuel with all the ethyl alcohol we could cook up in so short a time. He says if we mix it with the gas we’re running in the Nancys it ought to work; it’ll just be inefficient as hell.”
“And I still don’t think it’ll stay mixed,” Brister objected, continuing an apparent argument.
“Maybe not,” Letts allowed with a sigh. “I’m not the guy to ask. There’s no way, under the present circumstances, we can come up with tetra-ethyl-lead-that’s the stuff Mallory and Bradford told me they usually add to the gas. Anyway, we’ve got an airstrip started north of the shipyard. If he and Russ decide to try to fly the things out, we’ll have a place to land them. God knows who’ll fly them, though. He’s got a few of our new pilots with him, but as I understand it, learning to fly a P-40E is about as far beyond flying a Nancy as brain surgery is beyond picking your nose.” There was general laughter at the analogy, but Adar clearly didn’t quite understand. Hopefully, he would one day.