Iron Gray Sea

CHAPTER 29

South of the Rocky Gap

India

“So, here we are,” General Pete Alden said softly, unnecessarily, gazing out over the long, narrow, forest-crowded lake. The water was dappled by the last rays of the sun, sinking beyond the mountains to the west, and great, wide trees hung low over the shallows. Angrily squawking duck-shape lizard birds wheeled and darted in rough formations, trying to find undisturbed moorings while weary planes jockeyed toward the open shorelines, their tired engines echoing across the water. Compounding the aggravation of the lizard birds, hundreds of now-free-roaming dino-cows dominated a lot of the shady shallows they preferred, capering and bugling happily in the superabundance of water they apparently craved and had been denied by their former wranglers. Musketry still rattled in the distance, punctuated by the heavy rumble of artillery and mortars.

“Yes, here we are,” observed General-Queen Protector Safir Maraan with sharp irony. She had discarded her black cloak at some point in the fighting that brought them here, and her silver armor was dented and dark. She sounded utterly spent, but she was growing impatient with Pete’s self-recriminations. “We are here, alive, because you bravely and brilliantly saved us from the trap you sent us to,” she said bluntly. “A trap that General Rolak might have warned us against, but didn’t. A trap Colonel Flynn and I should have recognized because it was not dissimilar to one the enemy tried on us before. The Grik grow more… adaptable… than we had thought, were willing to believe, they were able.” Her tail swished irritation at herself. “Now we know. Henceforth, we must design our battles as if we were fighting against ourselves, not thoughtless animals.” She shrugged. “The majority of them may still be such, but those who design their battles are not!”

Pete Alden reluctantly nodded. “I guess. Rolak’s Corps has fully replaced yours, and nothing’ll get past him as long as he has enough ammunition.” He stopped, as if unwilling to admit he’d done something right. “We carted a lot of ammunition out of Madras before…” He shrugged. “We’ve got a fair amount of fuel too, since we didn’t have to worry about hauling water.” Nobody would drink lake water without boiling it first, but there was plenty of it. “We’ve got a good perimeter here, from the Gap down to the river that runs out of this lake,” he continued, “and we rounded up a lot of those dino-cows the Grik were staging in the jungle, so we won’t starve for a while. Eventually, ammunition and fuel are going to be a problem.” He rubbed his neck, then nodded at the lake. “I guess it might’ve been kind of pretty here once, without all the floating junk.”

All of Leedom’s remaining Nancys, battered and dingy, either floated alongside a long “dock” of fallen trees, or choked one of the gravelly beaches they’d been dragged up on to keep them from sinking. Other planes, most from Salissa, had been coming in periodically from Madras, fleeing the approaching Grik. Arracca was overcrowded, and after what happened to Big Sal, her planes had nowhere else to go. Some looked okay, but most showed hard use. One of the latter was trying to touch down now, its overworked engine wheezing and smoking, the control surfaces in rags.

“That will be Captain Jis-Tikkar,” said Safir. “We have comm again at last, and he sent that he was on his way here.” Her large eyes cut toward Pete. “He is the last.”

“Orderly!” Pete shouted. “My compliments to Captain Tikker, and get his ass over here as soon as he steps out of that heap. Make sure you get some water in him-or anything else he wants to drink.”

“ Big Sal? Pete asked when Tikker saluted him.

“Afloat and underway,” Tikker replied. “Somehow.”

Pete had heard that, but it was nice to have it confirmed. Salissa’ s comm was out, but Keje-thank God Keje was safe! — had reported via Scott that his ship was out of danger but was incapable of flight ops of any sort and couldn’t even defend herself. She had taken two direct hits from the crazy Grik gliding bombs, and all her upper works forward of the bridge had burned. There was also serious damage amidships on the starboard side.

“I could see her burning all the way to Maa-draas,” Tikker reported, “but once the rest of the fleet joined her, they brought the fires under control. The entire fleet now retires to Andamaan, except for Scott, a gaas-o-leen tanker, and a few other DDs that will make a run to Trin-con-lee to offload whatever they can for Colonel Maallory’s planes and aircrews.”

“They’re staying?”

“I do not know, Gen-er-aal.”

“Well… but otherwise, we’re on our own?”

Tikker shook his head, blinking denial. “I cannot say, sir. All is still very confused. Three Grik baattle-ships are in Maa-draas, bombarding the empty city”-he snorted and blinked-“and if that were all there was, I think Ahd-mi-raal Keje would remain aboard Arracca. A broader combat air patrol could ensure against more Grik zeps getting close enough to use their gliding bombs-but reports from a picket ship off south Saa-lon say more Grik baattle-ships are on the way. Perhaps they were sent later, or were delayed by breakdowns… Regardless, since the only weapon we had to usefully combat them was Salissa…”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “No sense risking the fleet if we can’t even dent the bastards. But that brings us back to Ben Mallory. His P-Forties could make short work of them with proper bombs. They brought something to Andaman they thought would work-”

“Yes, sir, but they cannot, could not, bring them here. The range was too far to bring the bombs and the fuel necessary to make the trip.”

“Maybe a ‘Clipper’…”

“That is one discussion we monitored between Ahd-mi-raal Keje and Colonel Maallory,” Tikker said.

“Rest assured, Gen-er-aal Aalden,” Safir Maraan told Pete, “Cap-i-taan Jis-Tikkar is correct. Nearly every message we have monitored or received involves relieving this force. It has become the priority of the western war effort. All we have to do is hold out until help arrives, as it surely will.”

Pete smiled at her. She made it sound so easy, but he knew she had no such illusions. She did have faith, though; that was plain. Faith that help would come and they would hold. Pete remembered his earlier mood with embarrassment. Clearly General-Queen Protector Safir Maraan still had faith in him in spite of everything, and he determined then that he would die before he disappointed her.

“We’ll hold,” he said, his voice firm. He gestured out at the lake. “Tikker, you and Leedom have the biggest air wing in the world right now. Even after you strip the wrecks, you’ll have more planes than a carrier, I’ll bet. We brought some fuel out of Madras, and we’ve got incendiaries. Maybe the battleships shrug ’em off, but they kill the hell out of Grik in the open. The guys are digging in like fiends. We’ll see how the Grik adapt to trench warfare.” He grinned. “Which I never was a big fan of, by the way. We’ll let ’em get used to it and see how they like it; then, out of the blue, we’ll knock the shit out of ’em!”

Grik Madras

“We have achieved a great victory!” General of the Sea Hisashi Kurokawa loudly proclaimed as he met generals Niwa, Halik, and Muriname in the heavily guarded field north of Madras. The sky was utterly black and only the fires of the burning city hinted at the huge bulk of the black-painted airship that had brought the other leaders, besides Niwa, to him there. He knew it must have been a harrowing flight, because even Muriname’s personal craft, heavily armed as it was, required only a spark to roast them all alive as they plummeted to the earth. Kurokawa felt a chill. He would never ride one of the terrifying things. There were already reports that many of the enemy aircraft had escaped to a lake west of there. Surely some of them would be on the prowl?

The two Japanese generals saluted him, followed a moment later by Halik, who mimicked the gesture. “Come, my friends,” Kurokawa boomed, still for the benefit of the many onlookers. “I have a large tent, captured from the enemy, that we may relax within while we discuss our ultimate reconquest of my regency!”

Halik and Niwa looked at each other. Kurokawa ’s regency? It occurred to both of them then that N’galsh was nowhere to be seen, nor had Niwa seen the vice regent since Muriname arrived in the south. Niwa didn’t know Muriname well. The scrawny former NAP 1/c seemed older than his years and was already losing his hair. Niwa barely recognized him. Together, they moved toward the tent. Once inside, Kurokawa’s temper took a profound turn. Never did he raise his voice to a level that might be overheard by the guards some distance away, but Niwa recognized an old, almost fanatical intensity.

“Why, General Halik, was the enemy not destroyed in the pass? With the numbers at your disposal and the new warriors you were sent, it should have been simple enough!” Kurokawa demanded.

“The enemy is not a stone that one may overturn at will,” Halik replied evenly. His words were carefully enunciated to be clearly understood, and Kurokawa almost recoiled in surprise. Halik had been “just another elevated Grik” when Kurokawa saw him last. He’d been talented, certainly, and clearly had great potential, but that potential had not yet been realized. “His discipline is better than all our warriors but the hatchling host, and his tactics more flexible. They have better weapons-I understand you have seen the examples we captured? — and he uses them well.” Halik continued, his crest rising. “Ultimately, we could not force the Gap because our air power was taken from us-and we had not enough artillery when we needed it most.”

Niwa was proud of his Grik friend. Never had an underling stood so straight and spoken so forcefully to Kurokawa before. He hoped it wouldn’t cost Halik his life. He prepared for Kurokawa’s explosion. Instead, to his amazement, the general of the sea merely stared. Eventually, he nodded.

“You make sense, General Halik. The enemy has better weapons than even I believed possible,” he admitted. He glared at Muriname. “As the travails of my own Grand Fleet can attest. I suppose you did well, under the circumstances. You did not take the pass from the enemy, but you denied him the open plain beyond where I fear his flexibility would have been far more difficult to counter-and where he might have interrupted your only secure line of supply.” He fumed, looking around. “We have no other as yet, and will not until we control the sea and sky!” He glared at Muriname again.

“In all honesty, my Grand Fleet was savaged,” he confessed. “We have more ships on the way, but nothing faster than theirs, so the matter of supply and reinforcement remains. If the new bombs had been used sooner, I would not have lost so many ships-including my own flagship!” The rage threatened to spill over again, and Muriname shifted uncomfortably.

“General of the Sea,” Muriname said, “I ordered the attack as soon as I received word-and it did succeed in the likely destruction of one of their carriers…”

“For the loss of nearly every airship under your command!” Kurokawa snapped. “And you would not even know what they accomplished if I had not seen it myself! All that attacked were lost!” A troubling thought resurfaced in Kurokawa’s mind. He’d been too distant to see what did it, but something destroyed the last of Muriname’s airships before they could finish the big enemy carrier, and something else wiped out the second force with equal ease. Or could it have been the same thing that destroyed both? he wondered.

“More airships are on the way,” Muriname soothed. “But they remain at a disadvantage in speed and maneuverability-not to mention other inherent risks.” He straightened and looked strangely at Kurokawa. “Ultimately, they are all we have for now. We must make do, and devise better tactics for their use.”

Kurokawa nodded thoughtfully, oddly quick to halt his attack against Muriname, Niwa thought. What is that look? Is there something better than dirigibles taking shape at the Japanese enclave on Zanzibar? Suddenly, Niwa was sure of it. But why keep it secret? Then it was clear. For the same reason they kept communications secret-from the Grik. He remembered Kurokawa’s ways well enough to know the madman doubtless still plotted and schemed.

Finally, Kurokawa turned to Niwa. “I have missed you, General, more than you know. You have accomplished much and made me proud.”

For a moment, Niwa could only stand in shock. “Uh, thank you, General of the Sea,” he managed at last.

Kurokawa smiled for an instant, then a frown creased his face as quickly as if a switch had been thrown. “Your exemplary actions to this point leave me particularly surprised that you did not seize the opportunity to destroy the forces that retreated from Madras. They were strung out, drawing supplies, helpless. Now they have established a strong defensive position that cannot be ignored.”

“I…” Niwa stalled. How could he describe how difficult it was to launch any kind of coordinated attack through that dense jungle south of the road the enemy took? He had attacked, and the fighting had been fierce-it was still going on-but most of the enemy had reached its new defensive perimeter. He simply hadn’t been able to bring sufficient force to bear at any one place to scatter the column. “I have no acceptable excuse, General of the Sea,” Niwa finally replied. “I tried, but was not successful.” He glanced at the others. The same could be said of all of them.

Amazingly, Kurokawa’s expression softened. “Never mind,” he said. “You and General Halik will have a chance to redeem yourselves. You have the enemy surrounded now, do you not? It should be a simple matter to coordinate your forces now and utterly destroy these… refugees. I leave the planning and execution to the two of you.” He held up a hand. “I will require some thousands of your warriors to assist in the refitting of my ships. Also, some of the local civilian population, including many artificers, that fled the enemy are with you, General Niwa? I need them back. See that they are sent here immediately.”

“Of course, General of the Sea.”

“Very well. Then if you have no further questions, I shall leave you to your task.” He turned to Muriname. “You remain a while longer before you fly away. I have other things to discuss with you.”

Niwa turned to leave, but noticed Halik hadn’t moved.

“You refer to your regency, General of the Sea, but what of Regent-Consort Tsalka and his vice regent, N’galsh?” Halik asked.

Kurokawa swiveled his head and rested his eyes on the Grik general. An odd smile twisted his lips. “Lord Regent Tsalka was given the traitor’s death,” he said bluntly, watching Halik’s crest flatten with horror and disbelief. “Vice Regent N’galsh died leading the airship attack against the enemy fleet, and I will have to replace him. But by the express wish of the Celestial Mother herself, I am Regent-Consort of Ceylon and All India now, by conquest!” Kurokawa paused, and actually giggled. “Perhaps not Consort,” he said, “but Lord Regent? Oh yes! I have reconquered the bulk of the lost regency; Ceylon will come in time. This land is mine, by promise of the Giver of Life!”

Niwa’s head spun. N’galsh lead an attack? Impossible! Kurokawa, a Grik noble? The man is utterly mad.

“Does First General Esshk support that?” Halik demanded, and Kurokawa’s face reddened.

“Why on earth would that matter?” he roared, forgetting himself at last. “It is the will of the Celestial Mother, supported by the Chooser. And as Lord Regent, I am no longer bound by the whims of such as General Esshk!” Kurokawa’s smile twisted further. “This land belongs to me now, as do all the warriors upon it. As do you, General Halik!”