Slowly, the flight climbed. All the planes bobbled a little in the unruly air, but the formation held together. Tikker scanned ahead, below, above, and even behind, but the early-afternoon sun was too bright to stare in that direction for long. The west coast of Borno lay before them, but the blue-green shore would make it difficult for them to pick out Mark Leedom’s blue-painted Nancy. “No signal yet?” Tikker asked unnecessarily.
“From Leedom’s plane? No, sir,” Cisco replied.
Well, that was good, Tikker guessed. If Leedom had engine trouble, Nurse McCoy would have sent something. She didn’t know the code, but she’d been instructed to transmit a single long blast if they ran into trouble. Tikker hated the idea that anyone might ever be forced down in the unexplored jungles of Borno. The thought frightened him even more than the prospect of setting down on rough seas. “So. Wherever they are, they’re still airborne.”
“That would figure.”
“Then they’re either still ahead of us-” Tikker abruptly had to grab the stick more firmly and fight for control against a surge of sudden turbulence as a blue and white shape flashed down in front of him. For just an instant he was frightened and confused, but he already knew what had happened. “Or above and behind us!” he grated bitterly. Looking around, he saw that his flight’s formation had disintegrated like a flock of akka birds. When he looked down, he recognized what could only be Leedom’s Nancy pulling out of its steep dive and beginning to rise once more. “Send for the flight to reform on me,” he said irritably. “Now that we’ve ‘found’ Lieutenant Leedom, we’ll return to the task force and begin our other exercise.” He shook his head and allowed a grin to sweep away his annoyance. “I guess Lieutenant Leedom fancies himself a ‘pursuit’ pilot, even if all he has to pursue are his friends. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Captain Tikker, Ensign Cisco, Lieutenant Leedom, and Nurse Lieutenant McCoy appeared, as ordered, at the door to the admiral’s quarters directly below the bridge. Marine Captain Risa-Sab-At awaited them in the passageway, grinning hugely. Without a word, she knocked on the door and ushered them inside. The “admiral’s quarters” were Keje’s personal staterooms, and served the same purpose now as his larger Great Hall had once done. Many of the same intricate tapestries that had survived decorated these walls, and if the space wasn’t as expansive as before, there was still plenty of room for quite a large gathering, and the furnishings were far more decorative than any human carrier had probably ever boasted. Keje stood as they entered, along with Atlaan-Fas, Salissa ’s nominal captain, and Atlaan’s executive officer, Lieutenant Newman. They were indoors, so no one saluted, but there was an unspoken exchange of respect.
“Welcome aboard, Lieuten-aant McCoy!” Keje said. “I have missed you. The youngling is well?”
“Very well,” Kathy replied.
“Excellent! I wish I could see it!”
Newman grinned. “Human babies aren’t nearly as cute as ’Cat babies,” he said. “They always look a little like grub-worms.”
“Nonsense!” Kathy protested. “Allison is utterly precious!”
“I’m certain of it,” Keje declared. “Please be seated, all of you.” The stools in the stateroom were all quite ornate, even Keje’s. His favorite stool having been taken permanently to the bridge, he considered it pointless to try to “replace” it here. “Nurse McCoy,” he began when all were comfortable, “I presume you are now prepared to begin your duties as chief medical officer? Excellent. I apologize for the uncomfortable necessity of flying you out to join us.”
“No apology necessary.” She glanced at Leedom. “It was quite exhilarating.”
“Yes. Well, I’d like to hear about that before we’re finished.” Keje turned to Tikker. “It would seem Mr. Leedom surprised your flight quite badly.”
“Indeed,” Tikker replied, “and that lends further credence to what Major Maallory has been saying. He has always wanted the Air Corps, Naval and otherwise, to be prepared for pursuit activities. Right now, we’re not. We’re not armed for it in any way, and we haven’t practiced pursuit tactics to any real extent. Mr. Leedom graphically demonstrated how devastating that unpreparedness might someday prove.”
“But the Grik, and even the Imperials, don’t have any airplanes!” Atlaan protested. “Practicing against threats that do not exist is dangerous and possibly wasteful of pilots and machines.”
“The Imperials don’t have airplanes yet,” Tikker conceded. “Now that they know they are possible, I bet they will someday. They are not my immediate concern, however. We have no idea what the Grik may have by now. We know they have one airplane, the observation plane that bombed Baalkpan. We know from Commander Okada that it was damaged, but we haven’t recovered it at Aryaal or Sing-aa-pore. They have taken it with them, somewhere. Even if they aren’t copying it as we speak, all they have to do is fix it, and it can sweep every plane we have from the sky. It is faster and, unlike our own planes, armed.” Tikker glanced at Leedom. “I now believe we must be prepared to meet it someday, if nothing else.”
Atlaan was silent and Keje grunted. “I see your point,” he said. “We must consider some sort of air-to-air armament for our aircraft, and yes, our pilots must at least practice a little of what to do if they are attacked in the sky. ‘Evasive maneuvers,’ I think you called them. Very well. You and our new ‘pursuit pilot extraordinaire’ will formulate tactics and begin integrating them into the training flights.” Keje’s voice lightened. “At least we know the dive-bombing tactics you have been working on are effective!”
Tikker cringed. He’d expected a chewing-out over the exercise his flight performed just before they set down in Salissa ’s lee. Keje sounded pleased, in a way, but Tikker knew the admiral enjoyed irony and he might fly into a rage at any moment. “Uh, well, yes, Aahd-mah-raal. They do seem to work well, at least against… unsuspecting targets.”
Keje and even Atlaan laughed out loud. It was a strange sound to humans, but all those present had learned that what sounded like a hacking cough to them was the height of mirth for a Lemurian.
“Unsuspecting!” Keje managed at last. “I actually Told them to expect an attack from the air! I wanted them somewhat prepared so they could practice some ‘evasive maneuvers’ of their own! Trust me, you are not the only one who has sleep-terrors of Grik aircraft, or torpedoes or other unrevealed capabilities!” He barked another laugh. “Cap-i-taan Cablaas-Rag-Laan of USS Scott actually complained to me regarding the successfulness of your attack!”
Tikker cringed again. Evidently, Keje wasn’t mad at him; most of his people enjoyed practical jokes, but he hadn’t meant to make enemies of the new steam frigate captains! And Scott had actually dodged a few of their “bombs”! What must Captain Mescus-Ricum of USS Kas-Ra-Ar think of him? His ship hadn’t escaped a single hit!
Captain Atlaan produced a creditable imitation of the slightly imperious commander of Scott. “Aahd-mah-raal, I must protest! An exercise is all well and good, but have you any idea how messy a large, putrid, flasher fish can be when it strikes my clean new deck from such a height at such a speed? ” Keje and Atlaan roared again, joined by Risa and Newman.
“It was just like that,” Newman said. “It came over wireless, but you could still almost hear the indignation!”
“Wha-what was your reply, Aahd-mah-raal?” Tikker asked, and Keje’s tone became more serious.
“I told him that bombs make a far bigger mess than rotten fish, and that he might try a little harder, in the future, to avoid them. I had intended to tell you not to use fish again because I suppose someone might be injured if struck, but I have changed my mind. For the next few days, you will bomb the frigates with rotten fish unmercifully, until you can’t hit them anymore, understood?”