Read Rising Tides Online

Authors: Taylor Anderson

Tags: #Science Fiction

Rising Tides (10 page)

CHAPTER 7

Baalkpan

A
lan Letts, redheaded, with fair, peeling skin, stood up from behind Matt’s desk in the “War Room” office of the Great Hall when Adar swept into the chamber. Perry Brister and Steve Riggs also stood from their stools and faced the High Chief and Sky Priest of Baalk- pan, and chairman of the Grand Alliance. Despite his new, exalted status, Adar still wore only the trappings of his previous occupation: a hooded purple robe with silver stars embroidered across the shoulders. It was the vestment of a Sky Priest of
Salissa
Home, or
Big Sal
, as the Americans had practically rechristened her. A Sky Priest was all Adar had ever wanted to be, but like everyone, his American friends in particular, he’d been forced to become much, much more.

“Your Excellency!” the three men chorused.

“This is certainly an unexpected pleasure, sir,” Letts continued. “What can we do for you today?”

“First, you may cease calling me ‘Excellency,’ ” Adar grumbled, blinking frustration. “I don’t feel particularly ‘excellent’ at anything these days.” He stepped to a more traditional Lemurian cushion in a corner of the room and collapsed tiredly upon it. “If you simply must call me something official, I assure you ‘Mr. Chairman’ is sufficiently lofty and undeserved to spoil my appetite, but it does not imply that I have actually accomplished anything.”

“You’ve accomplished a great deal, sir,” Riggs assured him. “A lot more than anyone else could have, guaranteed.”

Adar waved his hand. “Captain Reddy did most of the ‘accomplishing,’ I’m afraid. I am merely a ’Cat wrangler.” He chuckled. “What a delightful term! I have never seen one of these small cats that inspired your diminutive of my people, but I gather from descriptions that, in addition to a barely measurable level of intelligence, they are extremely independent, maniacally self-centered, and virtually incapable of concerted action. Not so?”

Letts, Riggs, and Brister couldn’t help chuckling in reply. “I assure you, Mr. Chairman, the diminutive was never meant as an insult, but you know that. It had more to do with what your people looked like to us than how they act.”

“Well, then,” Adar said, “imagine how coincidental it seems to me to discover how like your ‘cats’ my people actually are!”

“More trouble in the Allied Council?” Brister asked.

Adar sighed and his ears flicked back irritably. “Of course. What else? More and more of the ‘runaways’ return all the time, now that it is ‘safe,’ and they somehow manage to get themselves selected to the People’s Assembly of Baalkpan regardless of their past behavior. They are but an irritating minority for now, and have no real voice, but our allies fear they may subvert Baalkpan’s commitment to the cause.” He shook his head and blinked again in a series most of the humans had learned represented reluctant acceptance. “The People do grow weary of war and all the demands it makes upon them. When we fought here, to defend our Home, the war was much easier for them to understand. But now we are raising and equipping armies and navies for expeditionary campaigns. You would think that would reassure them, but all it does is make them feel that the war has become distant enough for them to safely ignore it.”

Adar had learned enough about human face moving to recognize the concern his words brought, and he raised a placating hand. “Oh, don’t worry. I apologize if I have alarmed you unduly. As I said, the elements that believe thus are still few, but the longer it takes to defeat the Grik, the more difficult that task becomes—not only militarily but politically.” He sighed again. “That filthy Billingsley creature could not have struck at a worse strategic time. He caused us to divert Captain Reddy and
Walker
—two of our most precious assets—in an entirely different direction. I do not begrudge the mission they have undertaken. I still blame myself for its necessity. I also believe it may be essential for our long-term success. I just can’t help thinking, however, that it has delayed our offensive in the West.”

“So,” Letts asked carefully, “why exactly have you come here? Is there something you’d have us do differently?”

Adar chuckled. “Of course not! This little room is part of my residence after all, but it is the one room that is secure from office- and favor-seekers and petty, self-interested functionaries.”

“Like Laney used to do,” Riggs said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, yes,” Adar confirmed, “but he was not the only one, nor the worst. He sought advancement, but he did contribute to the greater good in his own way. He still does. He may even be happier on this trip with Major Mallory.” There were chuckles. Riggs would certainly be happier without Laney and Chief Electrician’s Mate Ronson Rodriguez feuding over resources and personnel all the time. With Spanky gone, Riggs had been feeling singularly picked on. “No, it is the others,” Adar continued, actually showing his sharp white teeth in a grin, “that have sent me scurrying here to hide among trusted friends!”

When the relieved laughter died down, Adar asked a serious question. “So, what is the latest news? I assume Mr. Riggs has brought you the most recent communications?”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman,” Letts replied. “We were just going over the message forms. Do you want east or west first?”

“I admit I am most anxious to hear the latest from Captain Reddy,” Adar replied.

“Very well. As you know,
Walker
,
Achilles
, and their ‘prizes’ safely arrived at an uncharted atoll. They’re completing repairs. Captain Reddy says he has sufficient fuel to reach Respite; that’s the first Imperial possession they’re heading for. We have the coordinates and he intends to await the arrival of the squadron of tankers Saan-Kakja has dispatched before pushing on into the heart of the Empire. That squadron is making good progress, by the way, and should reach Respite within a month of the Skipper. They’re taking a more direct, northerly route, and should be able to expand the search for
Ajax
, in case she stopped anywhere along the way.” He frowned. “The Skipper hasn’t seen any sign of her yet and assumes she’s still ahead of them. Anyway, the Y guns are scaring off the mountain fish, and the big brutes haven’t been much of a problem for the tankers. I wish we had something better because I still worry about nighttime encounters and the crews have to be able to
see
the devils before Y guns can do any good.” He shrugged.

“Our communications with Lieutenant Laumer on Talaud Island are still intermittent, even though they’ve got a new transmitter up and running.” He shook his head. “It’s got to be atmospheric interference from that damn volcano they’re sitting on top of. Laumer’s still confident they can get that old sub off the beach, but as much as I’d like to have it, I almost wish Captain Reddy would order Laumer and his people out of there.” He looked at Adar. “Maybe you should do it,” he suggested hesitantly.

Adar shook his head. “I will not second-guess Captain Reddy or Lieutenant Laumer. Mr. Laumer is ‘on the spot,’ as you would say, and believes he can accomplish his task. Captain Reddy must trust his judgment or he would have ordered him to abandon the project. I too worry about Mr. Laumer and his people. The smoking mountain on Talaud Island has long been known to be irritable, but when the world grumbles, not even Sky Priests can divine the reasons for its complaint. Apparently Talaud is complaining most bitterly about something, but there is no way to tell what it will do. It might return to sleep as it has often done, or it might bellow its rage as the scrolls record it has also done before. Mr. Laumer is there. He must decide.”

He leaned forward. “Now, tell me what Colonel Shinya has to report. How go things in Maa-ni-la?”

“Swell,” Letts said. “As you know, the first thing he did when he got there was turn that goof ball Jap, Commander Okada, loose, and see to it he had passage to Honshu—you know, Jaapan?”

“I still do not understand why he wanted to go there,” Adar said. “He could have been of much assistance had he chosen.”

“No telling,” Riggs replied. “He did tell us quite a lot about the Grik and that damn Kurokawa. A hell of a lot more than we would’ve known otherwise. Shinya’s a Jap too, but he’s gotten to know us. He’s a friend. He also spent time in the U.S. before the war, in California, so he might be more prune picker than Jap nowadays, anyway.”

“I doubt that,” Brister said. “But he’s a good guy, and he isn’t nuts. He knows what this fight is about. Okada just doesn’t seem to get it. Shinya said he even recruited some oddball ’Cats and started teaching them a bunch of crazy samurai stuff!”

Letts sighed. “Not much we can do about that, and according to Shinya, it’s probably not a bad idea. The Fil-pin colonists on Honshu aren’t soldiers. There are some pretty strange creatures there that can be really dangerous. That’s where the me-naaks, or ‘meanies’ originally come from, as I understand it, and there’s a lot worse stuff there too. Manila has always had trouble getting folks to move there. They actually need soldiers, and who knows? If a Grik probe or scout ever penetrated that far . . .”

“Yeah,” agreed Brister, “and besides, it gives us a place to ship the Jap prisoners we ‘rescued’ from the Grik on Singapore. A couple of them want to help us out, and that’s swell, but what were we going to do with the other ones? I don’t think Okada’ll rebuild the Japanese Empire with a handful of Japs and a few kooky ’Cats.”

“I’m sure you are right,” Adar said. “I hope they may find happiness there. But what else has our illustrious Colonel Shinya been up to?”

“Training Saan-Kakja’s army, mostly. We left a few Marines to begin the process before we went looking for the sub in the first place, and judging by the quality of the troops Saan-Kakja has already sent, they’ve done a pretty good job with the basics. Shinya’s been training them in larger unit tactics so they’ll be more prepared to step right into line as fully formed, independent regiments once they get here. That’s what’s taken the most time in the past; they show up with excellent basic infantry skills such as those we’ve taught our own troops, but their officers and NCOs don’t have any experience. In other words, Shinya’s trying to teach them all the stuff we’ve had to learn the hard way.”

“What of the Fil-pin industry? How does their shipbuilding proceed?” Adar asked anxiously.

“It’s not up to our level yet,” Alan Letts replied, “but I expect it will be pretty soon. No offense, but the Fil-pin Lands had already outstripped Baalkpan as an industrial trading center before the war even started.”

“You certainly do not offend me.” Adar chuckled. “Remember, I was but a lowly Sky Priest when this war began. I had no notion or concern regarding the relative industrial capacity of Baalkpan or Maa-ni-la. Any disparity may have troubled the great Nakja-Mur, but my only interest lies in what our combined capabilities might accomplish.”

“Well, as I said, their production of ships, weapons, and heavy equipment hasn’t quite matched ours just yet, but their fundamental industrial base and capacity is greater. Baalkpan had one large foundry when we arrived. It was mostly devoted to casting huge anchors or ‘feet’ for your humongous floating homes, but we turned it to pouring large cannons easily enough. We have upwards of half a dozen even larger foundries now, some pouring iron, but Manila had that many to start with. Once they hit their stride, I think we’ll be in pretty good shape. They’ve already blown us away as far as leather implements, canvas, grain production, even leather body armor are concerned. They had a bigger labor pool to begin with, and when everybody began fleeing there in the face of the Grik, that labor pool grew even more.” Letts’s expression was philosophical. “We’ll catch back up to some degree as people continue returning. In the long term, Baalkpan has much greater potential than Manila. Borno is a
big
island. Lots of space and raw materials. There’s no reason why Baalkpan and Manila ever need to become rivals, if any of your people are worried about that.”

Adar waved his hand. “That is the least of my worries, although I must admit the possibility is a concern to some. As you know, I ultimately seek a greater, more permanent union than our presently strong but potentially fragile Grand Alliance represents.”

“I think he was asking ‘How many ships have the Maa-ni-los built so far?’” Riggs supplied, sotto voce.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Mr. Chairman.” Letts shook his head. “I guess I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“Quite understandable under the circumstances,” Adar allowed. “Our people share far more similarities than one might ever imagine just by . . . looking at us. There are profound differences, of course, but our unity and friendship feed upon a number of fundamental commonalities.” He grinned. “Such as our devotion to mates and younglings, it would appear. I have watched how the mid-age younglings you rescued from the Talaud submarine behave, and that behavior is somewhat consistent with that of our own young of like age. Your mate’s youngling is due to arrive at any time, I understand, and I am most anxious to observe the behavior of a human infant!”

“Trust me,” Riggs jabbed, “the behavior of the human parents is far more bizarre!”

“Say—” Letts grinned. “Steve’s probably right. Anyway, Shinya reports that the Maa-ni-los have only finished two steamers, but they’re close on a couple more, and they have ten that’ll be in the water within a month. He says the wood isn’t as good—they weren’t drying it like we were—but they’ve set up kilns. Hopefully, that’ll work. Their hardwoods are a little different than those around here too.”

“Maa-ni-lo-built Homes and feluccas last just as long as those built here,” Adar mused. “As in all things, ‘different’ may not mean ‘not as good.’ ”

“Of course, Mr. Chairman,” Letts replied. “I think he meant it wasn’t as good in the sense that it wasn’t as ‘ready.’ Maa-ni-la was building two or so Homes a year, and their hardwood supply has moved away from the city. It takes them longer to cut it, move it to the construction area, and lay it up for drying. That’s why they’re setting up kilns. Aside from the hardwood we’d already laid up when we cleared the jungle away from the city, the people here only used to build a Home once every couple of years, so there was a lot more suitable wood nearby. A Home takes at least ten times as much wood as one of our new frigates. Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, “they’ll catch up pretty quick, and probably surpass us in shipbuilding.”

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