Emerald Sea

by John Ringo

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  For the next two days, as the weather continued foul, Jerry and Vickie between them tried to cram all the theoretical aspects of dragon riding into Herzer's aching head. At night he went to bed with terms like "yaw" running through his head and every morning it started all over again.

  He discovered what had been happening in his brief flight when he'd been trying to move the dragon around in the air. He learned about optimum glide paths, methods of spotting thermals, and the anatomy of the wyverns. The wings were not, as he'd thought, just flesh, blood, skin and bone, but were a complex web of far more advanced materials including biologically excreted carbon nanotubes.

  "It's the only way the wing bones could support their weight and powered flight," Vickie explained. "There's no way that bone and skin alone could do it. The largest previous flyer was a fraction of their size. And there's some indication that overall air pressure was higher in the Jurassic."

  "So Joanna's got this in her, too?" Herzer asked, looking at the sketch. "They've got to be some of the strongest 'natural' material on earth."

  "They are," Vickie said, frowning. "We try not to make too much of a point of it."

  "I can imagine why," Herzer said, frowning in his own turn. "There's a lot I can imagine to do with wyvern wings." The bones would make excellent weapons and the primary skins would make tremendous armor. Assuming you could figure out a way to cut it."

  "As to Joanna, yes," Vickie said. "But more so. How do you think she keeps her head up in flight?"

  "Bloody hell," Herzer said. "That's . . . a lot of nanotubes."

  "It's one of the reasons they grow so slowly," Vickie said. "And they're continuous filament monomolecules. One of the strongest substances ever made."

  "Cutting them would be a stone bitch," Herzer said. "Which means their wings aren't going to be subject to puncture in combat."

  "Trust you to think of that." Vickie chuckled. "But they can be dislocated. It's one of their big weaknesses. But, no, they don't break wing bones or tear wings."

  "If they were fighting on the ground the thing to do would be to wrap their wings around them," Herzer thought. "Nothing would get through it."

  "They can be superficially scratched," Vickie said. "And that takes a long time to heal. But their wings are, for all practical purposes, invulnerable. On the other hand, they take a lot of care and feeding."

  Which they did. On active days they required several feedings per day, totally nearly their own body weight. On inactive days they required far less, but every day it was excreted.

  "Fortunately, they tend to let go in air," Jerry said, as he was covering that aspect. "But with them cooped up as they are . . ."

  "It gets messy." Herzer grinned.

  "That apparently was passed on, and Evan the Ever Efficient planned for it," Jerry said. "The ship really does have enough stores to support them for a hundred days, but that's at the cost of crew. This is a really skeleton crew for a ship this size."

  "I'd noticed," Herzer said.

  And the skeleton crew was kept busy. While Herzer was cramming his head with information about dragons the crew was busy fighting the storm. Again and again the sails had to be trimmed as the wind backed around, died down and then blew back up.

  It was rough and nasty and apparently the life of the Navy. Herzer decided that they could keep it.

  * * *

  Working the night shift was not helping with Joel's mission. He'd picked up a rumor that the head cook was peculating, probably with the help of some of the victuallers that supplied the ship. But that didn't make him a spy, although Joel would include it in his report.

  The problem with working the mid-watch was that he had minimal interaction with the officers. If there was a New Destiny agent on-board, the most damaging position would be among the officers. And although they rotated shifts so he'd been around each of them, if any of them were communicating with New Destiny, it wasn't clear.

  As he came on watch he picked up another jug of herbal tea and some mugs and stuck his head in the wardroom on his way to the quarterdeck. Commander Mbeki was standing at the rear of the wardroom table, just turning away from, apparently, contemplating the forward bulkhead.

  "Get you anything, sir?" Joel asked, holding up the jug and mugs. "Nice shot of herbal tea for a cold night?"

  "Thank you, Joel, I'd like that," Mbeki said, his face wooden.

  "You okay, sir?" the steward replied, frowning. "You look pretty down."

  "I'm fine, seaman," the commander replied, taking the mug that was poured for him. "Just wish this storm would abate."

  "Well, if wishes were fishes, sir," Joel replied with a patented young and stupid grin. "Storms don't listen to wishes is my experience. You just ride with 'em or turn into 'em and ride 'em out."

  "You've sailed before?" the commander asked, surprised.

  "Sailed small fishing boats in Flora, sir," Joel said, taking a mug of tea for himself. "Then took a packet up the coast and joined the Navy. Seemed like the right thing to do."

  "What did you do before?" the commander asked. He didn't have to say "before the Fall." "Before" was always the same, before the world came apart.

  "Mostly sailed," Joel said, shrugging his shoulders.

  "Family?" the commander asked, sitting down.

  Joel paused and then nodded. "Wife and daughter, sir. Miriam, I'd guess she was home in Briton. We had a place on the coast. My daughter . . . she was visiting friends in Ropasa. Near the Lore." He shrugged. "I try not to think about it. No more than, oh, a hundred times a day."

  Mbeki nodded sadly. "Don't tell anyone that, if you take my advice."

  "That I think about it?" Joel asked.

  "Where they were," Mbeki said, his face hard. "You really don't want New Destiny finding out. Trust me on that."

  "I will, sir," the steward said, mentally filing the datum. And the face. And the body posture. And the radiating anger. "I surely will."

  * * *

  Finally, on the fourth day after they had left the bay, Herzer emerged in the morning to a strong, cold north wind and beautiful clear skies. The seas were rough but he'd acquired some of the knack for moving on the pitching deck and he made his way down to the dragon deck gathering no more than two new bruises on the way.

  "It's a good day to fly," Vickie said as he came down the ladder. She and Koo were engaged in feeding the wyverns and they, too, seemed to think it was a good day to fly since they kept looking up from their feed and cawing at the overhead.

  "If you can get off the ship," Herzer said. "And back on. If you thought the water was cold before . . ."

  "What's it like?" Jerry asked. "I still haven't been topside."

  "Cold," Herzer said, opening his coat in the warmth of the stables. "Windy. Really windy."

  "I'm willing to give it a try," Joanna rumbled, from forward. She had moved down after the first night when all the stores possible had been moved aft and the dragon deck cleaned up. Now she stretched to the limit possible and rustled her wings irritably. "And if I've got to hit the water, I can handle the cold."

  "I'll go see Commander Mbeki," Jerry said, shrugging into a fur-lined jacket.

  "See if you can at least get the hatch open," Joanna said. "I'm tired of being cooped up down here."

  Herzer and Jerry made their way aft to the quarterdeck where Commander Mbeki was striding up and down, reveling in the breeze.

  "Good morning, sir," Jerry said.

  "Morning, Mr. Riadou," the commander replied. "I suppose you want to see about getting off the ship?"

  "Commander Gramlich does, sir," the warrant officer replied. "She feels that even if she can't land, she can make a water landing and hoist herself aboard."

  "And a joyful moment that will be," the XO said with a grin. "The skipper is taking a much needed nap; he was up through most of the storm. I have the con, but generally evolutions like air operations would mean his presence."

  "I understand, sir," Jerry r
eplied. "The commander requested that at least the main hatch be opened so she can get on deck and stretch her wings."

  "That I can comply with," the commander said after a moment. "And I would suspect that by this afternoon the wind will have moderated somewhat and the skipper will be awake. We might be able to commence air operations then."

  "Thank you, sir," the warrant officer replied. "I'll go see about getting the hatch removed."

  * * *

  The commander was as good as his word. By the time Herzer was finishing his lunch he heard the command "All hands, prepare to come about!" followed shortly by "Prepare for air operations!"

  By the time he got on deck, Joanna was on the catapult. The ship had been turned with the wind off what he now knew to be her port bow. Jerry was on the launch lever and Evan was fussing with the new launching mechanism. The detachable balk of timber had been removed and a fixed device had replaced it. Joanna had shown that she could release in time and they were trying the less wasteful system for the first time.

  "Are you ready, yet, Mr. Mayerle?" Commander Mbeki called impatiently. The primary flight operations had been moved to a new station on the rear-mast, high enough that it could see to the rear of the ship but low enough that it wasn't in the way of the sails. From that perch the commander could see both incoming dragons and the launching catapult.

  "Ready, sir," Evan replied with a wave.

  "Commence launching operation," the commander called.

  Jerry looked at Joanna, then leaned into the lever. The combination of the cold air, which Herzer had learned was also denser, the strong wind and the rapid rate of movement of the ship caused the dragon to practically leap into the air.

  Joanna ascended rapidly and Herzer hurried to his landing station. But when he got there, Vickie was already in the station.

  "You're late," she said with a grin. She held up the flags and pointed them at the dragon as Joanna came around into the landing pattern.

  It was clear that Joanna was having a hard time with the crosswind. She nearly made it on the first try but was blown off course by the effect of the sails at the last moment and banked off as Vickie gave her a wave off. Herzer could tell that it troubled the rider as well and he patted Vickie on the shoulder.

  "You're doing fine," he said, realizing with a start that he had far more experience at this than she.

  "Do you want to take over?" she asked, uncertainly. "This is pretty rough conditions." That landing the greater dragon was far harder than the wyverns she didn't have to add.

  "No, you're doing fine," Herzer said. "She can either land or she can't. If she can't, she goes for a swim."

  The second time the dragon almost made it but was too low on her approach. The wave off was late and frantic and the dragon almost caught a wingtip again but managed to recover and stagger into the sky.

  "That time you were late," Herzer said, neutrally. "And it was clear that she wasn't going to be regaining the altitude she needed. Don't be afraid to wave off, even Joanna. Better a wave off than a crash into the ship. Remember, you're her eyes in this."

  "I'll remember," Vickie said miserably and pointed at the dragon again.

  The third time the dragon was high, but Vickie got her on glide path at the end. However, on final a wave lifted the rear of the ship and Joanna had to beat her wings frantically to clear the rear of the ship. She did, however, make it onto the platform, well forward, nearly pitching off the end.

  "Well, that was pretty awful," she growled.

  Jerry had reached the station by then and touched Vickie on the arm.

  "Vick, let Herzer do landing control," Jerry said. "We all need to learn, but I don't think right now is the best time."

  "Agreed," Vickie replied, massaging her shoulder. "Those flags really get to you after a while. How do you do it, Herzer?"

  Herzer frowned at her, puzzled for a moment, then laughed.

  "Vickie, once you've trained to hold a shield and sword up for four hours, straight, this is nothing," he said, flexing his shoulders slightly. It was apparent that they were corded with muscle.

  "Time to start working out." Jerry chuckled. "Okay, I'm going to take Shep up. You stay here and watch the landing. When Koo takes off, go get Yazov and you follow Koo. As each of us lands we watch the next person's landing."

  * * *

  By evening the riders were covered in sweat and the dragons had started to lose their interest in the game. When Koo had to be waved off twice and Nebka nearly dumped on the second wave off Jerry called the training.

  "Skipper," Jerry said climbing the ladder down to the quarterdeck, "we're going to pack it in for the day. I think we've gotten all the training the dragons are up for today."

  "Agreed Warrant," Colonel Chang said. "Good job."

  "Thank you, sir," Jerry replied with a tired grin. He had stripped off his helmet and his hair was dripping with sweat despite the cool wind from the north. "With your permission we'll launch a dragon for top cover tomorrow around dawn and start working out scouting mission methods. We also need to start working out a signaling system."

  "There are various things to figure out," the skipper replied with a thoughtful frown. "I'd like to come up with a way to recover them at night, and we still need to work out a way for them to effectively attack ships, that sort of thing. I think we'll have a dinner meeting this evening. Before then, get yourself cleaned up and get some rest."

  "Yes, sir," the warrant officer said, saluting. "Permission to leave the bridge?"

  "Granted," the skipper replied.

  * * *

  "Dragon returning off the port beam," the lookout called.

  "He's signaling," the communications midshipman added, looking through his binoculars. "Two figure eights on the dip." He consulted a table and nodded to himself. "That's 'group of delphinos.' "

  "Bearing looks to be about one-seven-zero," Commander Mbeki amplified as the dragon flapped nearer. "Eight of them."

  "Probably just dolphins," the skipper said. "But at least the signaling system works."

  "Herzer's preparing to launch with Warrant Officer Riadou," Mbeki said. "I'm heading up to pri-fly."

  "This should be interesting," the skipper said and smiled at the chuckles it elicited.

  * * *

  Herzer hadn't been on a dragon since the first flight but he found his position on Shep easily enough. The extended rein system was confusing at first but he soon found his holds. The reins had been extended so that Jerry had his own set behind Herzer and could take over if needed.

  "Just let me handle the takeoff," Riadou said. "I tested this out with Vickie and we shouldn't have trouble. But stay away from motions until we're airborne and I tell you you can take over."

  "Okay," Herzer said.

  The wyvern hopped to the launch platform and grabbed the launching baulk automatically. The wyverns had come to enjoy the takeoffs, at least the first few of the day. It was a good game until it became tiring.

  Herzer gripped the straps and looked at the launching officer. The position had been taken over by one of the ship's petty officers since there were insufficient riders to man it. The PO caught both their eyes and their thumbs up, then hit the release.

  Herzer had pointed his face forward and gasped as the wyvern was hurtled forward and suddenly they were in the air.

  "What a rush!" he yelled with a laugh.

  "That it is," Jerry said. "Almost makes up for the landings."

  Jerry got the wyvern up to about seven hundred meters and then turned the controls over to Herzer.

  "Now just follow my commands," Jerry said. "I know you can sort of control the dragon, but the next time you're up by yourself you've got to get it back on the ship. And that takes a bit more control than your first time."

  "Will do."

  They worked through various flight contours. Level flight, slow spirals up, slow spirals down. Finally Jerry signaled for landing and waited until the ship turned into the wind.

  "T
ry to line it up on the ship," Jerry said, signaling to the LSO and getting a wave in return.

  "Got it," Herzer said, signaling in turn. He watched the motions of the LSO and grimaced. "I feel like I'm going to overshoot."

  "Watch the LSO," Jerry said. "Don't think. Let the LSO do the thinking for you."

  Herzer tried to control the dragon but he realized he was all over the sky. "I'm not up to this. Yet."

  "True," Jerry replied. "My dragon."

  Herzer let go of the reins and watched the landing. Jerry's handling of Shep was much smoother and in no time they thumped to the deck.

  "I'm going to need a lot more time in the air," Herzer said as they dismounted and the grooms took Shep below. He realized he was sweating even though he had done practically nothing. The landing had been physically debilitating.

  "Yep, you are," Jerry said. "And that's going to be hard to arrange what with everything going on. I hope by the time we get to the Isles you'll be qualified."

  * * *

  As they sailed south it had become warmer and today it was, arguably, hot. Herzer thought about that as he mounted Chauncey and looked over the side. The water was a deep, cerulean blue, like liquid oxygen. The good news was that if he had to dump, the water was at least going to be warm.

  But he put that out of his mind as he gave a thumbs up to the launching officer and looked forward.

  He had gotten used to launchings at this point and paid much more attention to the dragon than the launching. Chauncey took the air easily, though, and he directed him into a spiral up and to the right.

  "Just get up and into landing position," Jerry had told him, so he spiraled the dragon upward until he had good altitude and directed it to the pattern.

  Vickie was being recovered from a recon mission so he waited for her to land, Chauncey gliding at near stall speed on the light winds. He realized that the dragons were becoming more trained to the landings and was considering that aspect when he realized it was his turn to land. He turned on final and waved to the LSO, getting a wave in return. He checked the telltale on the masthead and prepared to correct for the wind being slightly off the starboard side. Joanna had gone for a swim and she was sculling along on her back, watching his approach. On the other hand, it looked like everyone in the ship had fallen out to watch the landing. The crew had gotten used to dragon-flights, but Herzer figured that the first time for a newbie was an event.