Iron Gray Sea

CHAPTER 19

March 17, 1944

Scapa Flow, New Scotland

Empire of the New Britain Isles

Mrs. Carr quietly brought a pot of tea into the Imperial Library in Government House and set it near the sunken-eyed girl sitting on the leather-padded chair behind the broad, cluttered desk. It was her father’s desk, and the disheveled stacks of papers, books, and odd contraptions sprawled across it, just as he’d left them, seemed to represent him in the room. Princess Rebecca Anne McDonald stirred herself to nod slightly in thanks. With a dreadful sigh and what might have been a disapproving glare at Courtney Bradford, Mrs. Carr left the room. Courtney sat across the desk, leaning forward, yearning to enfold the girl in a comforting, supportive embrace, but the young princess had forbidden it and Courtney knew why. Possibly endless tears lurked behind those tortured eyes, and they couldn’t be released, not yet, lest they quench the white-hot steel that burned in the girl’s soul. He’d said everything he could possibly say, and she knew of the protective support, even love, he felt for her, but things-momentous things-had to be attended to, and she could not let anything interfere with that just yet. Even grief.

Mechanically, Rebecca poured a cup of tea for Courtney and another for herself; then they continued to wait. The odd, colorful, furry reptile named Petey remained drooped across the back of Rebecca’s neck like a fat little stole. He hadn’t even stirred except to cut an eye in Mrs. Carr’s direction when she came and went. Perhaps he sensed something of his master’s mood, because he definitely knew Mrs. Carr was the primary source of food in the house, and normally, he would have begun yapping “Eat! Eat!” at the first sight of her.

There came a soft knock at the door and the Imperial Factor, Sean Bates, stepped into the room, accompanied by the blond-furred Lemurian Lieutenant Ruik-Sor-Raa. Bates’s expression was little different from Rebecca’s, and Ruik was blinking rapidly in condolence. Beyond the door, before it closed, a glimpse of the hallway showed it well supplied with Imperial and Lemurian Marines.

“Yer highness,” Sean began softly, his own eyes red. News had finally come. “I wanted ta say, I must say, yer father an’ mother… they were…”

“You will address me as Your Majesty, from this moment on, so there will be no misunderstanding, no possibility that any might doubt my legitimacy or intent!” Rebecca said sharply.

“Of course, Your Majesty… Of course,” Sean replied, forcing a formal tone. “The coronation’ll make it official… after the funeral, of course, but there’s certainly precedent for a direct transition of Imperial power through inheritance…” He nodded harshly. “An’ I advise ye ta seize that power immediately, or everything we-and your parents-so recently accomplished might still be undone. The primacy o’ the Governor-Emperor could still be subverted, particularly since…” Bates stopped and lowered his eyes.

“Particularly since I am a woman-and not only that! A child!” Rebecca interjected.

“There’s the issue o’ lawful age,” Bates conceded. “An’ with today’s discovery of both yer father’s and mother’s remains in the ruins o’ the Court o’ Directors… Even many who support ye will insist on the namin’ of a guardian. That cry has already begun.”

“Then you will be my guardian!” Rebecca insisted.

“You cannot name me thus, Yer Majesty. Only the courts o’ Directors or Proprietors can do so. With the one disbanded an’ the other extinct, that leaves only…”

“Who?”

“The High Admiral o’ the Imperial Navy. In this case, Lord High Admiral James McClain. Jenks’s authority ta relieve him came directly from the Governor-Emperor, but he wasn’t dismissed the service, or even reduced in grade! McClain is still high admiral.”

“Never!” Rebecca cried. “The man is a coward and a military imbecile, and if poor Bigelow’s suspicions were correct, a murderer as well! His dying words could only have meant that McClain suggested the traitorous beaters! Now McClain will surely name himself as guardian!”

Petey finally stirred and raised his toothy snout from Rebecca’s breast. “Never!” he shrieked, approximating Rebecca’s indignant tone. “Goddam!”

Realization suddenly dawned, and Courtney bolted to his feet. “At last!” he cried. “We have a true motive for this damnable atrocity! I suspected the insidious fiend all along! No one opposed the treaty reforms more, and he certainly had the opportunity! Now the proof is laid bare at last!”

“Perhaps not proof yet, Your Excellency,” Ruik tactfully interjected, “but I believe you say… the evidence of circumstance? And it does make sense. The attacker we captured conveniently-and rather oddly-died in the Navy hospital before we were able to interrogate him. If the man was murdered, who might have arranged it most easily?” He paused. “As I think on it, to call what the Lord High Admiral did in the east mishandled or incompetent is a weak understatement. Not all were convinced he did mishandle the situation, as far as he was concerned.” Ruik blinked resentment. “I was there when he was relieved for cause, and he objected, of course. Cap-i-taan Reddy and Commodore Jenks did not believe he was a traitor or that he was in league with the Doms, or they would have hanged him then, I’m sure. Perhaps they were right, but in his disgrace, he could have turned traitor since, I suppose.” He blinked consideration. “Or… It did strike others with greater understanding of human face moving than I, that even disgraced, the high ahd-mi-raal did not act… defeated?”

“Most interestin’,” Bates mused; then he looked at Rebecca. “Mr. Bradford’s right: the motive’s clear. But we ha’ nae proof his military blunders were deliberate. His actions showed incompetence, p’raps, but no more than many o’ our other commanders ha’ shown in this war! He made no bones about his disagreement wi’ the strategy either.” He glowered. “An’ ta be honest, I don’t meself believe him in league with the Doms, regardless how his actions er inactions may ha’ aided ’em. But this terrible murder… I cannot put beyond him. I stand wi’ Mr. Bradford on that.” He sighed roughly. “An’ McClain’s neither a coward nor an imbecile, Yer Majesty,” he added. “More’s the pity.”

“But how may we prove it?” Rebecca asked almost desperately. “We must at least give reason for our suspicion. How could he have arranged the murders? It is already known that those who attacked Lieutenant Ruik, Factor Bates, and myself were Dominion zealots.”

“Dominion assassins were used.” Ruik considered. “That has been confirmed by our own observations, the marshals, and Imperial Intelligence-but the high admiral is chief of Imperial Intelligence. Is he not? Who is better placed to mislead and use such creatures, particularly amid all the confusion after the revolt?” He suddenly stood even more rigid. “I am personally convinced of his guilt,” he stated, “and am certain that Cap-i-taan Reddy, Chairman Adar, and Ahd-mi-raal Lelaa-Tal-Cleraan would desire me, and all our forces currently in the vicinity of the New Britain Isles, to offer you any assistance you may require for any reason, Your Majesty.”

“Your offer goes without saying, Lieutenant,” Courtney said with a wave. “But I think you have just connected a most significant dot. Suddenly, means matches step with motive and opportunity. Who better than Imperial Intelligence to leak the plans of our campaign on New Ireland? We now know the enemy anticipated our every move there, and only courage and divine providence prevented a most… distracting disaster.” Courtney drifted with his thoughts a moment. “I have it! Perhaps the lord high admiral was not in league with the Doms, but he did use them most effectively to distract the Governor-Emperor with domestic battles. This not only weakened our thrust against the Doms-a unifying enemy, if there ever was one-but delayed the implementation of the reforms that the high admiral opposed. Reforms that once made, could not be undone.”

He looked around at the others. “I propose that he laid the egg for his plot in this very room, when we discussed the campaigns both to recapture New Ireland and to secure the continental colonies! He and those loyal to him in Imperial Intelligence then hatched the scheme to supply the Doms and rebels with information that would cause a more lengthy, costly campaign on the island, while preserving the Doms in the east as a unifying foe that he could use to consolidate his power once the Governor-Emperor and his wife were out of the way.” He looked sadly at Rebecca. “And your own demise, my dear, which was so nearly achieved. What would that have gained him?”

“With both courts an’ the entire Imperial family disposed of, the high admiral would step directly into the Governor-Emperor’s office!” Bates declared, aghast.

“No wonder he did not seem defeated when he was relieved,” Ruik said with sudden certainty. “He wanted to be relieved, to be sent back here!”

“Well. Then Admiral McClain is clearly the most likely culprit. Isn’t he?” Courtney asked, a trifle smug.

“Yes, he is, and that does constitute sufficient cause to prevent his guardianship,” Rebecca stated icily, “and hopefully get him hanged. In the meantime, I am Governor-Empress, by inheritance, and Sean Bates will be my guardian if one is required! We will see to”-her voice cracked-“my parents’ funeral and the coronation, at which I shall crush McClain’s agenda of stopping the reforms and fulfill my parents’ legacy!”

“What will you do, my dear?” Courtney asked, focusing on the girl again.

“This very instant, I command the arrest of Lord High Admiral McClain and his particular associates,” Rebecca said darkly. “We must get ahead of this plot. Initially, he will be charged with gross dereliction of duty, and face a martial court to determine whether he should be dismissed the service. That should allow us time to investigate those associates and the Imperial Intelligence Service as a whole. Remember, the ‘Honorable’ New Britain Company virtually ruled New Ireland, and I sense the hand of its remnants in this. Look more closely for connections there as well.” She considered. “We should not even mention our other suspicions just yet, I think. We do not want to frighten unknown conspirators into flight.”

“Unknown conspirators. Particular associates. Hmm.” Courtney made a face. “As your first act as Governor-Empress, I think you should be careful, my dear, not to arrest people solely because they know the admiral. I know him, you know. Besides, Captain Reddy and his Americans-human and Lemurian-are quite taken with the Constitution they all swore to defend. It contains various tedious guidelines about having actual reasons to arrest anyone, not just important traitors such as the admiral. As the somewhat reluctant representative of the powers growing attached to that Constitution, I should warn you that they take it quite seriously indeed, to the point that their articles of war-based upon what they occasionally refer to as ‘Rocks and Shoals’-also reflect those individual protections. I think they will be impressed if your first commands set the precedent that you also value individual liberties.”

“Very well,” Rebecca said, reflecting that there’d been a time when Bradford’s ironic tact would have had her laughing. “Factor Bates, please see that the lord high admiral is arrested on the charge I specified-and do find legitimate reasons to arrest any of his associates who might have knowledge of a conspiracy. I will leave the detective work to you, the marshals, and any member of Imperial Intelligence you believe to be pure in this.” She looked at Bradford and bit her lip.

“As to what else I shall do: first, I will bury my parents. After that, I will make the very same address my father meant to give at the Court of Directors.” Rebecca’s chin rose. “I will affirm the reforms that my father began. All indentures will be rescinded, and women will be people in this nation once and for all, with the same freedoms and protections as any man.” She glared at Bradford. “And those protections will be very similar and just as universal as those described in the Constitution you mentioned.” She paused. “I read it, you see, while I was in Baalkpan. There was a book about government from a dead surgeon’s library. Astonishing…” She shook her head and continued. “The military alliance between the Empire and the western allies-the Grand Alliance-will be ratified by me, as will the cultural and material trade bargains we reached.” Rebecca’s voice became granite once more. “And I will proclaim that, as Captain Reddy suggested, the war against the evil Dominion will end only with its complete and unconditional defeat!”

“What of… what of the Dom prisoners we took on New Ireland?” Bates asked quietly.

Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “I want to kill them. Does that make me as evil as they?” She paused. “I can’t do that, and I won’t. They must remain confined, and those with sympathies toward them must be confined as well.” She glanced sadly at Courtney. “We are not yet completely ready for this American Constitution. We cannot continue with our war even as we guard against our own people.” She took a deep breath and released it. “I must order the arrest of all Dominion priests and congregations within the Empire, and those who associate with them shall be carefully questioned as well. Even… even the True Faith Catholics on New Ireland require study, I’m sad to say. Many did support the revolt there at first.” She looked at Courtney, her eyes suddenly pleading. “Sister Audry has convinced me that the Doms are not Catholic at all, but a hideous perversion that merely wears its cloak to hide their evil.” She sighed. “I believe she is right. I hope she is.” She shook her head. “Ultimately, it is for their own protection, as most in this land will not believe it, and many may seek to harm them.”

Rebecca looked at her hands, laid out flat on the desk. “Mr. Bradford, I… I need Sister Audry here! I know she is a good and godly woman. My people will come to know that too. If she went among the people of New Ireland, she could assure me, assure us all, that they have no connection to the Doms, no evil in their hearts! She could speak to our own clergy, become an ambassador between the faiths… Perhaps she might even speak to the prisoners! Do you think she could show them the wrong they do, teach them how they have been seduced-used-by evil?”

Courtney leaned across the desk and patted a small hand. “You ask a great deal, Your Majesty. Not of Sister Audry, because I think she would be more than willing to come. But you may be asking the impossible of her and of your own people in terms of result. It might even be difficult just to keep her safe, you know.” He paused. “But I will ask her with you. She doesn’t like me much,” he admitted, “but in that, as in all things, she is honest. You can trust her advice regarding the people-and prisoners-on New Ireland.” He turned to the others. “Now, gentlemen, if you please, why don’t you leave us for a time? Her Majesty and I have sensitive, private matters to discuss.”

Bates paused, then nodded. He knew Rebecca would feel constrained around him. He was no longer just her protector, but her factor now as well.

“Aye, Mr. Bradford,” he said softly. “Come, Lieutenant Ruik, yers an’ Her Majesty’s Marines have arrests to make.”

Even as the library door closed, Courtney Bradford finally moved around the desk to hold the small girl who, now that they were alone once more, began to tremble beneath the crushing weight of grief and Empire.

A while later, perhaps a long while-Courtney’s watch had finally been stilled by the terrible blast-he stepped quietly out on the wide veranda and sat heavily in a chair. He was in a dark humor, and placed what he hoped was a sympathetic decanter of brandy on the small table nearby. Setting a glass beside it, he deliberately, almost masochistically-given his noble efforts in recent months-poured it to the very top. The night was pleasant enough, but his spirits were very low, and he stared at the stars and yearned for his long-lost pipe. Suddenly, to his surprise, a common cat rubbed up against his leg.

Courtney had never been fond of domestic cats-few Australians were-and perhaps the fact they’d been great favorites of his unlamented wife had influenced him as well. But strangely, right then the little creature did provide some small solace. If nothing else, it distracted him just a bit from his grief and worry while he contemplated its desperate attempts to win his affection. Only two cats were known to have been aboard the “passage” ships, yet they’d quite infested the New Britain Isles, and many other places within the Empire that man had touched. They came in all sizes and colors, and it remained difficult for Courtney to believe they all sprang from only two specimens. At the same time, for all their numbers and variety, only two basic types seemed to have endured: those that were utterly feral and those that did not wish to be. The former were a nuisance that had done great harm to the ecology, just as they had in Australia, but the latter could be nearly as annoying. The people of the Empire were not particularly tolerant of any of them, as a rule. There were exceptions.

At the time, a clowder of cats had chosen the space beneath Government House porch for shelter to rear their young. They were endured because they kept the rodents and insects around the house to a minimum, and because Her Majesty was somewhat fond of them. Eternal warfare raged between the cats and Petey, who, though often wounded in battle, kept their numbers at bay. Rebecca scolded Petey for his depredations, but seemed to have a fatalistic tolerance beyond her years for his lamentable but quite understandable behavior.

I wonder, Courtney thought, if all her hardships and adventures, all the suffering she’s seen and endured, has contributed to that. Certainly she’s holding up better than I would have imagined. He took a gulp of brandy. Better than I am, in some respects. She’s as strong as Saan-Kakja and the Lady Sandra, as she calls her, as determined as Captain Reddy-and doubtless her long association with and strange affection for Dennis Silva has helped her as well. He sighed. She will ruthlessly move forward to quell this challenge and punish these atrocities in ways she may one day regret.

The cat, a kitten, really, continued rubbing against him, and seemed to be gauging the possibility of achieving his lap.

Sergeant Koratin suddenly sat in a chair opposite him, and Courtney blinked, stirring from his dark thoughts. “There you are, Sergeant,” he said. “I wondered what became of you.”

“I have been here,” Koratin replied.

“Hmm.”

“Sister Audry will come?” Koratin asked.

“I presume so. How did you know?”

“I guessed. She will be needed here, and once the treaties are ratified, which is a certainty now, you will no longer be.”

Courtney began to bristle, but Koratin was right. He’d come as an ambassador, but he’d largely become the face of the western allies here. Governor-Empress Rebecca would sort out the current mess, he was sure-one way or another-but she had to be seen as doing it herself. It wouldn’t do at all for her confused and frightened people to think she was weak or that she was being propped up by foreigners, no matter how popular those foreigners might be. Bates would help, of course, but as Rebecca’s prime factor and possible guardian, he’d be expected to. Ultimately, the reorganization and re-creation of the Imperial government must have an Imperial face. Still, Courtney was reluctant to leave the Governor-Empress.

“You are wasted here, Your Excellency,” Koratin persisted more softly, “and you have other work to do. The new Governor-Empress will need soldiers to advise her now. She will need Sister Audry to counsel her as only she can do, and help her with the… spiritual dilemmas. And…” Koratin paused, then continued almost regretfully, “she will need such as I, who has trodden the rotten decks of treachery before. I will serve her however she will let me, and I will protect both her and Sister Audry with my life. They will need protection.”

“I’m sure Her Majesty will have more protection than she can bear,” Courtney predicted, “but I do fear for Sister Audry.” He peered closely at the former Aryaalan noble. “She did convert you, didn’t she? You have become a Christian?” he probed.

“Of a sort. I am not sure what kind as yet. There are different kinds, it appears.”

“Indeed,” Courtney agreed with a grimace, “and I’m perhaps the same sort as you.” He chuckled. “Somewhat nondenominational, shall we say?” He took another long sip. “I suppose you’re right, though. Despite recent… events… here and the looming confrontation with the bloody Doms, it seems our war against the Grik will of necessity focus the western allies’ attention more firmly against them quite soon. For a time, at least.” He took a deep breath and leaned back. “I’m no soldier, but I do feel drawn in that direction. Particularly by these reports that the Grik are growing more dangerously sensible.” He scowled. “And our dear Rebecca will need Audry’s sweeter voice of restraint and compassion more than yet another angry friend of her father’s.” Suddenly he started and looked around. “Where did the cat go?”

“Cat?” Koratin was confused.

“Yes… Oh! My apologies! There was one of the small ones, a Felis catus, standing about. It’s gone now.” He frowned. “I wonder if that villainous Petey has frightened it away-or worse.” He looked thoughtful. “For all I know, the little creature might already be dead!” He looked skeptically at Koratin. “I don’t suppose you ever heard of a lecherous Austrian named Erwin Schrodinger?”

Koratin blinked.

“No, of course not. Why should you?” Courtney swallowed more brandy, then leaned forward. “My scientific specialty, beyond geology and industrial engineering, is comparative biology, but my horizons have necessarily expanded of late. I’m no physicist, let that be plain, and I paid only passing attention to the flurry of physical theories that drifted about Europe in the past decade like so much paper snow. Certainly Dr. Einstein and others made interesting observations, but their proposals seemed to require the elimination of every conceivable variable that might affect attempts to prove them. As a natural scientist, Heisenberg’s uncertainty principles-which, to me, stressed the impossibility of eliminating every variable in any real-world scenario-seemed more relevant to my interests, since variations in climate and habitat are the essential parts of, and not incidental or destructive to, any biological equation.”

Courtney admonished Koratin with the brandy glass. “You’re doubtless wondering what all this has to do with our missing furry friend, but it was the sudden memory of Schrodinger’s unfortunate cat that set me thinking about paradox, you see!”

“Paara..?”

“Of course!” Courtney thumped his chest and stifled a belch, then refilled his glass. “As a mental exercise and not an actual experiment, to be fair-I wouldn’t want to slander the bugger-Schrodinger proposed that a cat had been placed in a box with a diabolical device that would execute it at some point. As an offering to Einstein, the device utilized a trigger that would activate it at a presumably predictable moment, based on its atomic degradation…” Koratin’s confused blinking distracted him, but Courtney shook his head and plowed on. “As an illustration of paradox, I can’t see the point of that, because THE… point…” He paused, blinking himself. “The ultimate point was that the cat, once in the box, was both alive and dead!”

“I… don’t see how that can be,” Koratin muttered suspiciously. Courtney’s belch finally escaped, and he drank down the rest of his glass before filling it again.

“But it can… in a sense. It seems to me that an appeal to Heisenberg’s uncertainties would add to the drama of such a test, but perhaps he was trying to create a deterministic paradox.” He shrugged. “I frankly can’t remember. But though I believe determinism, that cause and effect has its place, chance-or uncertainty, if you will-constantly fiddles about with it outside the laboratory. Subjective, perceptual paradox involving life and death happens all the time-without imprisoning cats.” Courtney rubbed his bushy brow.

“Just today, for example, when the remains of Gerald and Ruth McDonald were recovered, we learned they’d been dead since the bombing-were probably killed instantly, God willing-yet until that word came, they were still alive to us. How many times have you heard of the passing of an old friend years earlier, and realized you’d thought of them as alive and perhaps wondered what they were doing after they were dead and gone, but before you got the word? That person was dead, but alive to you. I often think of my son, even now, flying Hurricanes for the RAAF, and he’ll always be alive to me, even if somewhere on the world we came from, he’s been lost for many years. Conversely, if he lives, he knows I’m dead. If he manages to discover how I left Surabaya aboard an ancient, dilapidated destroyer, he’ll learn that USS Walker was lost somewhere in the Java Sea-along with USS Mahan, USS Pope, HMS Exeter, and HMS Encounter on that dreadful, fateful day. Hopefully, there were survivors from the other ships, but there were none, could never be, survivors from Walker and Mahan… back there. All of us who remain, the so very few of us, are dead on another world-yet we live on here.” He took another long swig of brandy and then stared at his shoes. “Or do we?” he almost whispered. He sat up straight, with some difficulty, and smiled. “ That, my dear Sergeant Koratin, is a paradox.”

Koratin stood and gathered the decanter and the glass. “Go home, Your Excellency, back to Baalkpan. Write your book. Put these… strange thoughts to use against the Grik.”

“I believe I shall,” Courtney said distractedly. “Look there, Sergeant! The kitten has returned!” He leaned down and extended his hand. “Come here, little fellow, and I may condescend to pet you!”