“Empty!” cried Seepy, dropping a magazine out of the well of his weapon and groping for another in the vest he wore.
“Hang on!” Orrin yelled back. He knew the guns of the following planes would no longer bear. Damn! We gotta get guns in the front of these things! he raged to himself. His ship actually did have a .50-caliber machine gun in the nose, an “extra” that came to this world aboard Santa Catalina, but their current tactics wouldn’t let him use it. He could never turn on the Grikbirds now; they were too close. He slammed the stick forward.
One Grikbird, terrifyingly close, barely missed snatching his port wing in its jaws. He knew all it had to do was get ahold of his plane and it would latch on, tearing it to shreds with claws and teeth even as it fell. It would jump away before the wreck hit the ground—but return to eat him and Seepy after the crash. He’d seen it before. He’d also learned very well how to combat other more maneuverable but slightly slower enemies while flying P-40s in the Philippines. In a steep dive now, he started to pull away from the Grikbirds that had tucked in to follow. Unlike in the Philippines, however, he could do something about pursuers here.
“Hose ’em, Seepy!” he shouted into the voice tube. “And make it snappy. The world’s coming at us awful fast!” He was answered by a long burrrp! of the Blitzer Bug. A Grikbird tumbled and veered away in his mirror, but the last monster was actually closing! Just as bad, the ground was coming up fast, and Seepy wasn’t shooting anymore.
“Seepy!” he demanded.
“I empty again! Gimme a minute!”
“We don’t have one!”
“Okay! I ready! Pull up!”
Orrin hesitated. The ground was right there, but if he pulled up too abruptly, the Grikbird would have them almost instantly. He had no choice. Below, he saw the upturned faces of the Doms in the enemy column, watching the aerial battle overhead. They’d probably be shooting at him in a second. “Okay,” he yelled. “Here goes!” He pulled back on the stick. Just as he’d expected, the Grikbird grew large in his mirror, its talons outstretched to strike. Right then, as the Nancy swooped up over the Doms just a couple of hundred feet below, and their pursuer appeared mere inches from the red-and-white-striped rudder of the plane, Seepy hosed the Grikbird right in its open mouth. Instantly, it cartwheeled and tumbled lifelessly down to slam directly into the troops below.
“Ha! I bet that kill a couple Doms too!” Seepy chortled as a surprised but vengeful patter of musket fire chased after them. Nothing hit the plane, but Orrin was quickly on the lookout.
“Swell,” he shouted, relief turning to exasperation. “And we would’ve got even more if we crashed into ’em! What the hell’s the matter with you? We’re not playing chicken here . . . and get your eyes up! Where do you think those other Grikbirds went? They’re down here on the deck someplace. So quit fooling around!”
“Hey! Take it easy, Ell-Tee! You plan worked, an’ these Blitzers is swell guns! Way better than tryin’ to blaast ’em with a musket an’ buckshot!”
“Yeah, but if we were back there blowing dirt bubbles, all this fun you’re having would be over!”
Seepy was silent for a while as they climbed back to join the other three ships. “Could’ve got more of ’em too, if you thought to use you gun while we was divin’,” he finally accused, just loud enough to be heard through the voice tube. Orrin snorted and shook his head. He hadn’t been around when his cousin Matt first met the Lemurians, and he found it hard to believe they’d once been practically pacifists, almost as a race. There were exceptions. Supposedly the Aryaalans and B’mbaadans used to fight all the time, but from what he’d learned of ’Cats, they all seemed pretty bloodthirsty. Of course, it had taken the Japanese to make him a killer. And as soon as this patrol’s over, I’ll report to a Jap! War sure is funny like that.
* * *
The four Nancys set down on the gentle, protected water of Guayaquil Bay and motored in line like blue and white ducks over toward the pier established for their support. Beyond it was the strange city of Guayak the Allies had occupied almost without a fight, and the first “permanent” Allied foothold in the Dominion. The architecture was a combination of stone and adobe, but the adobe had been whitewashed or brightly painted. There hadn’t been a wall around the city when they took it, but the Allies had raised one with a lot of local help. Beyond the wall was a broad killing ground on a vast cropland plain, and it was studded with trenches, stakes, and barbed-wire entanglements. Everyone suspected that the barbed wire, newly arrived from Maa-ni-la, would come as a very nasty surprise indeed for the Doms.
Only the 9th and 11th Bomb Squadrons of the 3rd Naval Air Wing operated directly out of Guayak, while the other squadrons continued flying off their carrier, Maaka-Kakja. The great ship wasn’t far beyond the horizon, and Orrin alternated between her and shore. Right now, he felt more needed here because, besides his “test” that day, it was starting to look like things were about to pop. They’d only seen the one column of Doms for almost a hundred miles up the coast, and though they couldn’t get through to the interior to confirm no more were coming from there, the new arrivals would increase the enemy numbers to more than fifty thousand. That was plenty, and probably more than enough to make them sure they had the edge. That was likely all they’d been waiting on.
Orrin gunned his engine, and the plane surged forward to settle atop a submerged truck on a broad, newly graded ramp beside the pier. When his crew chief satisfied himself that the plane was properly supported, a large group of locals heaved on a line and pulled it out of the water. The fabric skin covering the Nancys was well sealed and they’d float for days, but they did tend to seep after a while. It was better to get them out of the water—particularly after an action that might have caused holes they weren’t aware of—and maintenance was easier ashore as well. Once Orrin and Seepy’s plane was high on the ramp, they climbed down and looked around. They’d been told that General Shinya himself would meet them. He wasn’t there, so they waited. Orrin’s gaze swept over the locals, toiling alongside the ground crew. They weren’t what he’d expected at all. Everyone had thought all the Doms were nuts, adhering to a wildly warped, slightly Catholic-flavored religion that was probably closer to what the Grik believed than anything. Their “pope,” like the Grik “Celestial Mother,” was basically God, or at least represented him. Orrin wasn’t clear on that and didn’t really care beyond the ways it influenced their enemies to fight. But the locals had their own screwy faith with a bunch of goofy gods, and what mattered to them was that, having seen the invaders tread upon the very soil of the Holy Dominion itself, they’d be killed just as mercilessly as the invaders. Orrin wondered how the Doms would justify letting the army sent to fight them live after also seeing them there. Maybe they wouldn’t? More likely they’ll cook up some new holy declaration that it’s okay to see us to shoot us after we’re already here, he thought. But that left the locals, poor devils, who didn’t much care for the Dom Pope either. They hadn’t wanted any part of the war, but now, all of a sudden, just because the Allies chose to land at their city, they were in it up to their necks. Orrin didn’t think that was really fair, but then again, it never was, was it? Another funny thing about war, he mused. The civvies in the way always get stomped on, and more of them usually die than soldiers do. The great lesson there, he supposed, was not to be a civilian when a war falls on top of you. By the look of things, the people of Guayak weren’t civilians anymore.
“Lieutenant Reddy,” came a voice behind him, and he turned. General Shinya and a number of others had finally approached, joining the fliers who had gathered around him.
“General,” Orrin said, saluting. Shinya returned the sudden swarm of other salutes very crisply.
“I gathered from the wireless traffic that your new air-to-air tactics are a success. Congratulations,” Shinya said.
“Thank you, sir. It was kind of a tight squeeze”—Orrin glanced dark
ly at Seepy—“but we got six of them without loss.” In the past, armed only with muskets, the aircrews would’ve been lucky to knock down three for one, and even though a trickle of crated Nancys was still arriving with supply convoys, the losses—particularly in trained aviators—were unacceptable. “Who knows how long it’ll work before they get wise,” he had to add.
“It may not have to work much longer,” Shinya said cryptically. He turned to the Imperial Marine Colonel Blair standing beside him. Orrin considered Blair one of the “good Brits.” He was one of the few high-ranking Imperials with any land combat experience, having learned a bitter lesson in Singapore, then honed his skills alongside Chack-Sab-At. “The map, please, Colonel,” Shinya asked.
“Of course.” Blair took the map offered him by Captain Blas-Ma-Ar. She was a Lemurian Marine, commanding the 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marines to be precise, and had seen a lot of action on every front. She was a tiny thing, and really cute in a kitteny sort of way, but Orrin often felt intimidated by her intense gaze. There were rumors about her going all the way back to the battle of Aryaal that might explain her unforgiving personality.
Blair displayed the map. “Yours was not the only reconnaissance of the day. We’ve had other planes up, as you know, and our cavalry actually skirmished with theirs south of the city.” He paused. The Eastern AEF had cavalry with real horses, but not very many, whereas the Doms probably had a full division of horse-mounted lancers. Fortunately, they didn’t use them very well, keeping them distributed in battalion-size clumps attached to infantry. “Our horse was pushed back,” Blair continued, “but not before confirming that the enemy has extended his flank to cut the south road.”
Orrin shrugged. He liked Blair, but despite their official rank difference, he didn’t consider him his superior. “So? My guys could’ve told you that, and we knew they were going to do it.”
“Yes, but they didn’t march fresh troops up to do it, as we’d expected, and there are no more coming from the south. They merely extended their lines. The cavalry skirmish is immaterial,” Blair added, waving it away, and it occurred to Orrin that it had probably been carried out on impulse by yet another Imperial officer who wouldn’t be an officer much longer. “But if the column you observed is indeed the last element of the enemy army, we can expect an assault on the city very soon.”
Orrin nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. I’m kind of surprised they haven’t hit us already.”
A dark-skinned man in a strangely cut but otherwise plain robe cleared his throat. His name was Suares and he was the liaison for the local high priest/mayor/whatever he was, named Don Ricardo Del Guayak, usually referred to simply as “Alcalde.” A former trader to the “Honorable” New Britain Company, Suares spoke a variety of English; no other locals did. Few locals, including the alcalde, even spoke Spanish, which everyone had always thought the universal language of the Dominion. The lingo here was apparently based on something much older.
“They will only attack when they are positive of success,” Suares said nervously. “To do otherwise courts even greater disaster than your presence here already represents!”
“That stands to reason,” Orrin agreed. “When Fred and Kari came in, they said things aren’t all peaches and cream in the Dom empire. Any hint of a defeat here could stir up a lot of trouble, maybe even a revolt.” Orrin scratched his head. “Which I bet that spy they ran into, Mr. What’s-his-name . . .”
“Cap-i-taan Aanson,” Blas supplied, and Orrin nodded at her.
“Yeah, Anson. The guy’s supposedly from some other ‘Americans’ who got here earlier than we did.” Orrin’s eyebrows went up. “Here since the Mexican War, in the 1840s! How weird are they liable to be? Anyway, I bet that’s exactly what he’s been trying to stir up.” He looked at Shinya. “Any idea how to get ahold of those people?”
“None. Mr. Reynolds suspected that contact might follow a decisive fleet action by them or us, on one side or the other of this amazing passage between the continents.”
“And since we can’t get eyes on what’s there . . .”
“Exactly. High Admiral Jenks refuses to bring on such an action, and hopes to avoid it until our own fleet is stronger. Thus,” Shinya said with a sigh, “here we remain, hopefully delaying that fleet from setting sail by occupying so large a portion of the army meant to join it!”
“All in a nutshell,” Orrin murmured.
“Indeed,” agreed Blair. “But, back to the original subject, I would appreciate your assessment of the enemy position. For our benefit, as well as that of Señor Suares. This will be his first briefing on the overall tactical situation.” Orrin looked at him, surprised. “Yes. As you know, we’ve been giving rudimentary training to his people here of military age.” Blair frowned. “Male and female,” he added uncomfortably. “It’s time he was allowed to inform his alcalde exactly what we all face together.”
“Fair enough,” Orrin agreed. He cocked his head and looked at the map. “We’re surrounded, or about to be,” he supplied unnecessarily, “and besides their fifty thousand troops, they’ve got about a hundred guns. Big suckers, some of ’em, that it took a dozen of those goofy armadillo-looking things to pull.” The Doms used horses for their light artillery, but their siege guns—probably the same weapons used aboard their heaviest ships of the line—were drawn by animals that did look like giant armadillos with long, spiked tails. “Again, like their lancers, they haven’t concentrated them anywhere, so they’ll probably use ’em to pick at us all along the line. They might gather ’em all together for a big push someplace, which is what I’d do, but so far there’s no sign of that.” He looked at Shinya. “We’re good for ordnance, right?”
“For the time being, at least. Our line of supply is very long, but we have significant supplies already stockpiled at the Enchanted Isles.”
“Fine. Then unless they pull something really weird, we should be okay for a while.” He nodded at the bay. “My biggest concern is there. It’s the only place we can’t really fortify, and we don’t have enough ships to cover it unless High Admiral Jenks cuts more of Admiral Lelaa’s screen loose—which I doubt he’ll do under the circumstances. If they do get more troops and decide to cross the water, or worse, their fleet shows up and we can’t stop it, we might be in trouble.”
“A most succinct appraisal,” Shinya complimented.
Suares looked increasingly incredulous. “If I may,” he said. “I do not mean to seem rude or disrespectful, but I find it difficult to credit your confidence, Lieutenant Reddy.”
“I believe what he means,” Blair said with a trace of amusement, “is that he can’t understand how we, with just over twenty-five thousand troops, including his militia, can hope to resist twice that number.”
“Well . . . indeed,” agreed Suares, “though I mean no offense.”
Shinya considered. “No offense taken, and I understand your concern. But do not fear. You have not seen how we fight, and though the Doms have formidable numbers, none of those here can have the slightest idea of the monster they’ve marched against.”
“Then if you are so confident of victory, why do you need my people to fight? Why do you not simply destroy the Doms here and then continue fighting them somewhere else?”
“That is easy,” Blas suddenly interjected harshly, glaring at Suares. “This is your war now too. It should be all your people’s war, to rid the world of the Doms!”
“That’s one consideration,” Shinya confirmed. “The other is that I want the enemy to send more troops here for us to kill. I do not wish to chase him about. The best way to ensure that, I think, is to beat those already surrounding the city . . . and wait.”
CHAPTER 4
////// USS Maaka-Kakja (CV-4)
Flagship Second Fleet
June 18, 1944
A surprisingly cool dawn, considering the latitude, swept across the vast expanse of sea between t
he occupied coastal city of Guayak and the Enchanted Isles to the west. Upon that sea sailed and steamed the greater part of Second Fleet, broadly deployed to support Shinya’s expeditionary force ashore, as well as cover the approaches to the Enchanted Isles from the curious, troubling passage far to the northeast. The fleet was an impressive sight, screened by steam and sail-powered paddlewheel sloops and frigates of the Empire of the New Britain Isles, and similarly powered Lemurian (American Navy) screw frigates or “DDs.” Beyond the screen, far beyond in some cases, prowled small divisions of DDs or seaplane tender destroyers (DTSs) designed to scout and fight. Within the screen were oilers, transports, freighters, ammunition ships, and colliers for the Imperials’ coal-fired boilers. Recently arrived Imperial ships of the line, “battleships” or “liners” as they were called by some, nestled around the great aircraft carrier/tender Maaka-Kakja (CV-4).
Maaka-Kakja had been the first purpose-built carrier on this world, but despite some major changes, her basic form remained very similar to the massive seagoing, sailing Homes that inspired her. Powerfully armed and capable of operating a large number of Nancys, she was unquestionably the most powerful ship in the Pacific, or “Eastern Sea.” But in some ways, though still practically new, she was already obsolete, and would be the only ship of her class ever built. She wasn’t designed to operate the new pursuit ships, or anything actually capable of landing aboard her. Those modifications would be made when time and facilities allowed, but the Allied “BuShips” had settled on smaller, faster, lighter armed, dedicated carriers to provide improved capability while at the same time—hopefully—preventing another catastrophic loss such as that of the converted Home, Humfra-Dar. Maaka-Kakja, and indeed other converted Homes such as Arracca and Salissa, were in no danger of being decommissioned or released from service, but the new fleet carriers of the Baalkpan Bay class were the wave of the future.
Deadly Shores Page 7
