Lauterbach chattered at the three Chinese, who looked first sullen, then surprised, and then crestfallen. When he had finished, they shrugged in resignation.
"Take them back to their quarters," von Muecke ordered the two marines. They saluted and herded the three Chinamen out.
Von Muecke turned to Lauterbach. "Thank you, Conrad," he said. "We'd have been in real trouble without them. I'm afraid all hands have been spoiled in that department. It was a lucky thing that you intercepted them."
"Lucky for you," Lauterbach agreed wryly.
"Lucky for you, too."
"For me?" Lauterbach was surprised.
"I started to tell you before you brought them in," said von Muecke, "but I had no chance to finish. I've just been looking over some orders that reached me only a few moments before you arrived. There's a set here for you, returning you to us. Kapitanleutnant Metzenthin is to take over the Kratke."
Lauterbach smiled warmly for the first time since he had entered the cabin. "Now that is good news!" he exclaimed. "I was beginning to fear that I'd be stuck with an auxiliary. Here, at least, there's a prospect of some action."
"That's one way to look at it, I suppose," von Muecke remarked. "Since you're here, I might as well endorse these orders, but I think perhaps you'd best go back to the Kratke until we've finished coaling and you've had a chance to turn her over to Metzenthin. When that's done, gather up your gear and come back. You'll find things a good deal changed since you saw us last. All the wooden partitions and bunks separating the officers' cabins have been stripped away—to cut down the danger of splinters, you know. It has enlarged the wardroom—fortunately, since we are all quartered there together now, half in hammocks, half on mattresses on the deck. It's not exactly the handsomest decor, but it is efficient, and oddly enough, it has a singularly unifying effect—as if we were brothers in a big family, rather than strangers who just happen to find themselves ordered to the same ship. I can't quite describe it, but I am sure you will notice it. Let me know when you come on board, and I will see to it that you are assigned suitable space." He scribbled his endorsement and handed the necessary copies over.
"Thanks, Helmuth," said Lauterbach dryly, accepting the papers. "You arouse my curiosity. I'll be interested to see this subtle change that you describe. No word from Tsingtao, I suppose?"
"None," replied von Muecke shortly. And that was that.
It was well past midday when Captain von Mueller returned on board. Obviously he had had his lunch aboard the Scharnhorst, for he did not call for food to be sent down to his quarters. Instead he punched his buzzer and sent out a call for von Muecke, When the exec appeared, he nodded toward a chair.
"Sit down, Helmuth," he ordered. "Is everything going well here?"
Von Muecke ran quickly over the day's events thus far. The Captain shook his head thoughtfully when he had finished. "I'm sorry about the China boys," he said. "Of course, we can hardly blame them. It's not their war, and they don't like to get so far from home. But there's no way to send them back now, and I think they'll be better off with us than if we set them ashore here."
"That's what I thought," von Muecke agreed. "As for the officers' supplies," von Mueller went on, "I'm afraid well have to disappoint Herman this time. There just aren't any to be spared here. Perhaps we'll be able to pick up a prize or two that will help us fill the gap. In the meantime we'll have to take up our belts in the wardroom. You understand, of course, that the men's rations must not be stinted on our account?"
"I understand that perfectly, Karl."
"Good! Then we'll make out!" Von Mueller relaxed slightly, "Now what about the coaling?"
"It's going well, Kapitan," von Muecke assured him. "Franz and Elric have made a sporting event of it and pitted port watch against starboard, with prizes to the winner, so that we are ahead of schedule. Trust Franz for that! And of course, now that Gussling and Schmidt have reported on each side, the pace is even faster than it was."
"That's excellent!" said von Mueller, "Whatever the outcome, see that all hands engaged in coaling have an extra ration of grog when they go off duty."
Von Muecke acknowledged the command half expectantly.
Von Mueller did not disappoint him. "So much for our own purely local problems," he continued. "Now—the larger scheme, as nearly as I can see it. The main strategy will be to close the Pacific to enemy commerce and warships, as far as is possible. Since most of the shipping must come around Cape Horn, from Europe, the bulk of our force will be best employed in that area. We have warning that a British squadron is en route that way to Pacific waters at this moment. Accordingly, the Admiral will move in that direction with the bulk of the fleet. However, we should not leave the back door—the routes around Africa and India, by way of the Indian Ocean—open." He paused.
Von Muecke waited politely for a moment. "And so?" he said at length.
"And so, Helmuth," replied von Mueller, "I took the liberty of pointing that out to the Admiral, and I volunteered the Emden for that duty. You understand, of course, that a single ship cannot hope to stop the flow of French and British traffic through those waters entirely. However, a single raider, with range and speed, can be almost as effective as a fleet when it comes to disrupting commerce and communications, and be even harder to catch."
Von Muecke looked thoughtful. "Yes," he admitted. "That's true."
"Make no mistake, Helmuth. There will be nothing heroic in the role. Our duty will be to act like an old-time privateer —to sink, burn, and destroy. We must never attack a stronger force. We should not even attack a force of equal strength, for fear a chance shot might destroy our usefulness. We should not even attack armed installations unless we can do so with a reasonable assurance of success. However we might feel in the matter, we must always remember that our function is to disrupt and demoralize and spread confusion. The minute we are either sunk or crippled, our usefulness is at an end."
"I understand, Karl," said von Muecke. "I am not here to play games any more than you are. What did the Admiral say?"
Von Mueller smiled dubiously. "He did not say, but I think he saw the value of the plan. We are to stand by for his orders. Meantime, we will sail with the fleet—"
"So you don't know?"
"No, Helmuth," von Mueller replied quietly, "I don't know. Neither, I believe, does the Admiral himself at this moment. However, when he decides, he will give us our orders. In the meantime we will continue as part of the fleet. I tell you this so that you may understand what may be in store for us. I need not add that it must be entirely confidential. Right now I want you to order the coaling crews to speed up their work, and signal Chief Ellenbroek for a full head of steam as quickly as possible. Supplies will just have to wait until such time as we are able to replenish them, whenever that may be."
The fleet sailed promptly at four bells of the evening watch, while the sun was yet red behind the dark volcanic cone of Pagan. Nurnberg and Dresden took the lead, with the merchants ships and colliers in twin lanes behind them. Leipzig held the left flank, hanging on the port quarter. Emden and the auxiliary, Prinz Eitel Friedrich, covered the right, with Markomannia following last among the ships of the starboard lane. The heavy armored cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau brought up the rear.
At sundown the orders were for complete blackout of all ships and full war watches. By dawn the merchantmen were in complete disorder, and it was only luck that prevented collisions. However, in the light of day they were soon brought back into formation, after which the signal flags snapped a Scharnhorst's halyards. They read: