Iron Gray Sea d-7

by Taylor Anderson

  “Aye, aye, Captain. I have the conn,” Norman Kutas replied formally, and Matt stepped out onto the port bridgewing. Moments later, Sandra and the Bosun joined him there.

  “Bashear’s assembling a side party to pipe you and the ambassador ashore, Skipper,” Gray announced, anticipating the order, and Matt smiled his appreciation. “Thanks, Boats.” He knew Gray, Silva, and Stites would accompany Sandra and him ashore, no matter what he said or how safe it was, so there was no point telling them not to. Down on the well deck he could see the ambassador’s party, including his aide and Midshipman Brassey, already waiting, peering excitedly over the solid railing there. He was surprised to see Diania, Sandra’s own dark-skinned, raven-haired steward waiting to go ashore as well. Diania had been Sandra’s first human female recruit into the American Navy. She’d found the striking but somewhat… odd woman in Maa-ni-la, but Diania was from Respite and Matt hadn’t expected her to want to go ashore. She’d never been forced into any… disreputable pursuits-she’d been a “carpentress”-but he’d still supposed she’d resist revisiting her former life of forced labor. On the contrary, she seemed even more anxious to go ashore than the others. Sandra followed Matt’s gaze.

  “She still has family here-or friends she considers family.” She looked squarely at Matt with a slight grin. “She also has a kind of… evangelical air about her today,” she warned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Navy had a number of new recruits shortly!”

  Matt exhaled an exasperated breath, but then noticed the way Gray was staring at the dusky beauty and his eyes went wide. The Bosun glanced at him, probably expecting a response to what Sandra said, and saw his expression. He actually blushed!

  “Uh… that’s all we need!” Gray grumbled defensively. “More damn women aboard-no offense, Lieutenant Tucker!” Hurriedly, he excused himself and practically bolted from the pilothouse.

  “Good Lord!” Matt said, astonished. “You’d almost think he was sweet on her, and he’s what-tree times her age?”

  “He is sweet on her,” Sandra confirmed, looking sternly at him. “I know that look pretty well. What’s more, I think Diania’s sweet on him. She goes on a little too much about that ‘grate, beastly ogre, Mr. Gray,’” she added, slipping into a passable re-creation of the girl’s convoluted brogue. “And so what if he’s a little older than she is-”

  “A little!” Matt spluttered.

  “They’ve both had it rough. Diania’s been a virtual slave most of her life, with no real prospect of a decent life-not to mention a decent man. And Fitzhugh Gray lost his only son aboard Oklahoma. The only other things he’s cared about in years are this ship and you! Give him a break. I hope they do get together.”

  Matt shook his head, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t been pushing that along just a little, have you?”

  “What if I have?”

  Matt’s full entourage, or, more properly perhaps, Ambassador Forester’s escort, included Sandra, Diania, and Lieutenant Bachman. Gray, Silva, and Stites represented the Captain’s Guard. Chack led an honor guard of six ’Cat Marines-all they had left aboard-in his immaculately turned-out Marine major persona. When aboard Walker, his Home, Chack reverted to what he considered his permanent role as a “mere” bosun’s mate who happened to be in charge of all the Marines, in spite of his growing reputation and increasingly greater status ashore.

  Governor Radcliff greeted them himself, accompanied by a large, enthusiastic gathering and an… unusual little band that played an oddly familiar fanfare as Walker ’s party marched down the gangway and assembled respectfully as the music played. While he waited, Matt evaluated the Imperial Governor of Respite. He was dressed as finely as before, though Matt now knew his clothes were slightly out of date by the fashion standards of New London. He remained portly, but radiated the bloom of a less-taxed constitution and didn’t seem nearly as harried and concerned as he had during their first meeting. Matt briefly wondered if he’d come down the mountain from the governor’s mansion on the grounds of the high fortifications, riding his unassuming burro once again. When the music finally stopped, Radcliff strode, with an expression of happy anticipation, to face Matt.

  “My dear Captain Reddy,” he boomed warmly, sketching a return to the salute Matt and the others offered. “Ambassador Forester!” he added, returning Forester’s bow. “You come extremely highly recommended, sir!” He straightened and addressed them all. “I can’t wait to hear your news. I am still amazed by the wonder of wireless, but nothing can substitute for words spoken by one friend to another!” He beamed. “I am so happy to see you all! Please, I would receive you more properly at my home, where we can discuss in greater comfort the heady advances you have wrought. I have taken the liberty of providing sufficient transportation.”

  “Of course, Your Excellency. We’re at your service,” Matt said, then paused. “Sir, you know my other companions, but if I may present our Minister of Medicine, Lieutenant Sandra Tucker? I believe you may remember that I’ve mentioned her before.”

  To Sandra’s amazement, Radcliff snatched her hand and knelt over it, brushing it with his lips.

  “I am deeply honored to meet you at last, my lady!” he told her earnestly, then his smile returned. “The last time I saw this man of yours, he was prepared to raze the entire Empire to the ground if a hair on your head-or that of our own Princess Rebecca-had been harmed. I naturally assumed that you must be the beauty of the world to inspire such devotion, but now my eyes chastise my imagination for the woeful disservice it did you!”

  Beneath her tan, Sandra’s face went dark red.

  “You are… flattering and very charming, Your Excellency,” she somehow managed, then gave Matt a knowing glance he’d seen before that always seemed equally proud… and afraid for him. “And it seems you got to know Captain Reddy very well indeed.”

  “Quite,” Radcliff replied softly, gently squeezing her hand before releasing it. He turned back to Matt, his enthusiasm reborn. “There is so much I want to tell you, I feel that I may burst!”

  They sat in the shade of the vast, wraparound porch encompassing the lower floor of the governor’s residence. Moisture condensed on glasses of cool beer arrayed on a wide wicker table, surrounded by the visitors and the half-dozen advisors and members of the governor’s staff. As when he’d first visited there, Matt was struck by the glorious view beyond the sloping parade ground of the fort. To the northeast, the sky was clear and bright. Due east, a few lazy clouds lingered. South of there, a dense, dark squall lashed the sea, and wispy white tendrils of the thing extended out to either side. The road that brought them to the summit wound around the back of the mountain, giving them a slowly rising view of the lush, scenic valley where the bulk of Respite City lay. Cultivated fields surrounded the population center, and beyond them loomed the dense, dark jungle. The contrasts were so sharp, so extreme, it was as though he’d glimpsed several entirely separate worlds since leaving his ship. The impression was similar wherever he went, he supposed, but only here was it quite so profound.

  Matt turned his attention to his more immediate surroundings. He was pleased to see Radcliff’s wife, Emelia, again, particularly when she took her place with the rest of them, right beside her husband. The daughters he’d met on the last occasion weren’t present and he wondered about that, but he knew Chack must be relieved. Imperial ladies couldn’t seem to resist petting his soft, brindled fur, and it mortified him. Chack wasn’t the only Lemurian there, however. They’d been joined by two others, both seemingly in a state of reverential awe toward the men and the ’Cat just returned from the east. Lieutenant Haan-Sor-Plaar commanded another new Fil-pin-built steam frigate, USS Finir-Pel, and Lieutenant Radaa-Nin was in charge of a pair of fast fleet oilers and three munitions and supply ships-all new sailing steamers, and all bound for New Scotland. Matt would get with them later and brief them on what to expect at their destination. In any event, he knew Radcliff had certainly become acquainted with many more Lemurians since they�
�d first met, and maybe he’d banned his daughters because he’d finally noticed the… discomfort their attentions caused his furry guests.

  Interestingly, this time Matt didn’t sense the slightest resentment toward Emelia’s presence from the governor’s other advisors, and she smiled warmly at him when he caught her eye. That was new as well. Matt knew that, despite Imperial custom, Emelia had long been the governor’s most influential advisor, and she’d been as worried about the Alliance as she was about the deterioration of the Empire. He was glad to see that her concerns in that regard seemed to have been put to rest. He looked to Emelia’s right, where Sandra had taken a seat, and was surprised to see the older woman pat her hand occasionally as if to reassure her. He’d never known Sandra to need reassurance, particularly from strangers, but he’d never seen her around such an almost motherly, astute observer as Emelia before… He shook his head.

  “Captain Reddy,” Governor Radcliff began, “first let me extend my most sincere condolences for the sad losses your people and your remarkable ship suffered during the recent, glorious campaigns, not to mention the terrible losses sustained on the Grik front… I saw the casualty lists, of course, when they were passed along to you, and I understand some of them constituted direct, personal losses to you and your ship. Friends and former shipmates.” He sighed. “We have never seen such a war and can hardly imagine what it must be like… I am not glad our Empire is beginning to find out, but I recognize and even embrace the necessity.” He met Matt’s gaze. “You will return home with a strong alliance with my country, for what you are doing for us, and we will help you in every way we can as well.” He straightened in his seat. “We have raised a full regiment here on Respite, for service in the west.”

  “That’s very generous, Your Excellency,” Matt said softly. It was. Respite was the oldest Imperial territory, established even before the Empire existed, but the population there and on all the islands under its jurisdiction probably amounted to less than two hundred thousand.

  “It only makes sense,” Radcliff said. “Wherever our people fight, it will be far from home, and with the Doms pushed back to their continental holdings, the Grik are actually closer.” He took a sip of beer, then forced a smile back on his face. “But enough of that! Congratulations are in order for many things! You have doubtless observed that the Grand Alliance is extremely popular here?”

  Matt nodded. They’d ascended the mountain aboard a kind of carriage reminiscent of a San Francisco streetcar drawn by burros, and the road had been lined with enthusiastic well-wishers, quite a few of whom were women. “Indeed, Your Excellency. I’m glad to see it.”

  “Take my word, Captain, the greeting is quite sincere. You accomplished everything we could have wished and more. You personally may not have saved the Princess Rebecca-and your lovely bride-to-be-but your people did. And then you avenged their abduction and mistreatment!” He leaned forward with a genuine grin. “The official version of that is colorful enough, I assure you, but I beg a firsthand account!”

  “Perhaps this is not the setting or the time to press him on such a personal matter, Mr. Radcliff,” the governor’s wife gently admonished him in a mellow tone. Radcliff spared her an exasperated but indulgent glare.

  “Later, then, if you please, Captain. Over dinner? Still, not only did you destroy the beastly Company’s domination of our lives and hasten the end of the inhumane institution of indenture, but you also did no less than save the Empire itself from conquest or at least dissolution. You have my most profound thanks.”

  “We didn’t do it alone,” Matt said quietly.

  “No, but you struck the spark and fanned the flames of liberty to life! I wish to God I had been with you! As you know, I had begun to despair, but to be there and see my emperor restored and country saved…”

  “Please do save your speech for the ball, Mr. Radcliff,” Emelia chastised. “I fear you are embarrassing the good captain!”

  “Embarrassing!” Radcliff huffed. “Heroes are always embarrassed. They are supposed to be.”

  “Ball?” Sandra suddenly interjected with an expression close to fear on her face.

  “Oh yes!” Emelia gushed, grasping both Sandra’s hands in hers. “As soon as I learned of yours and Captain Reddy’s desire to wed here-on our island! — I began planning the most glorious celebration! The romance of your… situation has resonated quite deeply with our people, and you stand as a figurehead for what all women in the Empire can achieve! The event will celebrate your wedding to the captain, of course, but it will also honor the Allied victories in the east, the resurrection of the Empire, and even what contributions our small land has made to facilitate those accomplishments. And, incidentally, as I said, I mean to stress your own achievements to inspire our people! It will be an event to rival an Imperial coronation, with repercussions that will be felt for decades, at least!”

  “Oh, my God,” Sandra whispered, and Matt barely suppressed a laugh.

  “I guess it isn’t your ‘ operation’ after all, Lieutenant Tucker,” he said with a straight face but a twinkle in his eye.

  The discussion resumed, returning to more serious matters, and shortly, Matt dismissed the honor guard to return to the ship and whatever duties they had there. He knew Spanky meant to commence repairs as soon as possible now that the ship was at rest, and Marines were part of the deck division when aboard as far as Chack-and certainly the Bosun-were concerned. The Bosun himself, as well as Silva and Stites, remained. They may have been a little bored, but habit kept them alert and listening to the conversation. Matt didn’t mind. Chairman Adar would likely pump Silva for his impressions of the governor once he returned to Baalkpan, and that was okay with him. Adar needed as many impressions of their new allies as he could get, and he’d be able to read between the lines of Silva’s likely flippant description.

  “And I am glad to see that we will have an official envoy to the western allies at last, Ambassador Forester,” Radcliff continued dryly. “It is long overdue.”

  “Indeed,” Forester agreed with a chuckle. Two envoys, one from Respite and another selected by the Imperial Court of Proprietors, had already gone to Maa-ni-la. Each had adamantly opposed the presence and credentials of the other, and Saan-Kakja sent them both away in disgust. That was before the Imperial situation had stabilized, but all it accomplished was to annoy the High Chief of all the Fil-pin Lands even further, and make her more reluctant than ever to send troops and ships to defend the Empire. “I understand I may have my work cut out for me, in regard to the… charming young Saan-Kakja, at least.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” Matt warned, “whatever you do, don’t let her age fool you into thinking you can push her around.”

  Forester held his hands up and laughed. “Oh no! As a friend of the Governor-Emperor, I have known Princess Rebecca all her life. I’m told she and Saan-Kakja are fast friends and very much alike. I have seen firsthand that fewer years do not necessarily equate to lesser wisdom-or determination. Quite the opposite, on occasion. And I wouldn’t dream of trying to push Her Highness around! I want nothing less than Saan-Kakja’s-and Adar’s-complete satisfaction with our membership in the Alliance.”

  “Good. In that case, I’d also caution you against pressing for a larger commitment in the east, from either of them. At least for now. You may not see this yet, but I believe the Grik are the most pressing enemy, and the western allies have been more generous already than anybody there-including me-is really comfortable with.”

  Forester’s face turned grim. “It is difficult to understand how the situation on the Grik front could be more pressing than the menace posed by the Holy Dominion, but I am prepared to concede it. You have fought both enemies on both fronts, and I trust your judgment. But do you really believe these Grik-mere savage… reptilians-may actually surpass our own technology?”

  “Maybe not surpass, Your Excellency, but they can match it-particularly with the help of the Japanese Captain Kurokawa. I honestly
don’t know what motivates him-other than insanity, I guess. But he’s already brought the Grik too close for comfort, and with their numbers-and frankly, ferocity-all they need to be is close.”

  “But the Dominion has vast reserves as well,” Radcliff observed, “and other than your Walker and your flying machines, there is little material difference between us.”

  “True, but we’ve hammered a big chunk of their fleet, and for now, our tactics are better. The Enchanted Isles are at risk because the Dom fleet is still respectable, particularly if it concentrates, and those islands are strategically placed to support future operations against them. That’s why I agree that Harvey Jenks needs to relieve them as soon as he can, because we’re going to need them. But otherwise, the Empire and its continental colonies are secured by a vast ocean, and I’m told, impassable territory between the colonies and Dominion territory. Our navies control that ocean.

  “On the other hand, the Grik industrial base may actually be broader than the Dominion’s. We know they’re building a new fleet, and when they’re ready, we expect them to hit us with something huge and likely unexpected. Kurokawa-and some of the Grik Hij-aren’t fools. They’ve already hit us with flying machines of their own-much larger and more complicated than ours, and they had a lot of them.” He shrugged. “Ours were faster and better armed. That was the difference.” He looked at Sandra, then at Chack and the other Lemurians. “Trust me. The Grik have to come first.”

  “Well, then. I will not argue it with you or anyone else at present,” Forester conceded. “Your people… your friends… have been generous. I do pray your evaluation is correct, however.”