Taylor Anderson - Iron Gray Sea

“Will she have to come here for the dry dock?” Bernie asked.

“Hopefully not,” Alan replied.

“But what of the rest of the fleet?” the obstinate Aryaalan asked.

“Colonel Mallory tore up the zeps that were headed for it. Arracca didn’t get a scratch. One of those crazy suiciders got one of the new fleet oilers, but that was it. The rest of the fleet got out before those damn Grik battleships could cut ’em off. Captain Tikker and some other ‘Nancys’ were up and down; saw the whole thing. He said the battleships didn’t act like they much cared about anything but steaming into Madras and blasting hell out of everything.” Alan smiled. “Of course, our people were already out of there. Either on the ships or back at Alden’s perimeter.”

“So… if Alden’s backed up against the mountains, with no sea access, how are we gonna supply him?” Silva blurted uncomfortably.

“By air, mostly,” Adar said firmly, “any way we can. And there might still be sea access,” he added cryptically. “In the meantime, the ‘Clipper’ program will get whatever resources it needs to double-triple-production of long-range aircraft. Col-nol Maallory is on Saa-lon, and will coordinate the air supply-and air offensive! Generaal Aalden may be isolated, but we will continue killing Grik!”

There was stomping and cheering, but it was subdued. Adar blinked at Sister Audry. He’d discussed his next subject with her and Alan, as well as with Saan-Kakja, Ambassador Forester, and Courtney Bradford, over wireless. There was currently no communication with Walker and Captain Reddy; nothing since her announcement that she’d engaged the Japanese destroyer. Only a few people were aware of that, and he wasn’t going to bring it up now. He didn’t even want to think about what a disaster Walker ’s loss could prove to be. Captain Reddy was too important to the Alliance, and Walker was disproportionately important to its people. He tapped the gong again lightly, then stood.

“We have faced desperate times before, but always we prevailed. I think we did so, in greater part, because of our unity. After a long succession of victories, we have been dealt a setback. Was this not to be expected? I hate the Grik more than anyone, but I have learned to… respect their capabilities like I never did before.” He nodded at Herring. “This is in large part due to the efforts of Commander Herring and his studies of the prisoners. With his… different focus, he has made discoveries that might have eluded even our eminent Courtney Braad-furd. He prepares other projects, other missions, to learn even more. These are things we need to do-should have been doing already-but our focus was narrower, of necessity. I believe, with his experience and training, he brings a greater grasp of the big picture, as Cap-i-taan Reddy would say, to the table than perhaps even Cap-i-taan Reddy has been able to do-despite his own long-ago recognition of the need.”

Incongruously, he blinked annoyance at Herring.

“Commander Herring has established himself as a valuable asset, and his Office of Straa-teegic Intelligence must be confirmed. But as much as he has learned on our behalf, he has much to learn about us. With respect, Mr. Herring, I propose that your perceptions are colored by your admittedly dreadful experiences. You were forced to surrender to the Jaaps and they treated you very badly-yet you survived. You must come to grips with the fact that there is no surrender to the Grik, and no possibility of survival if they are victorious. You consider the misery you suffered to be as bad as any being can inflict on another, but you must grasp the fact that the Grik are even worse than the Jaaps!” Adar paused while a long-ago vision flashed before his mind’s eye. “Much worse,” he whispered. He glared back at the man. “ I will decide who requires relief and who gets relieved, Mr. Herring.”

There was murmuring over that, but the shouting was not renewed. Adar sighed and took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He opened them. “I was made high chief of Baalkpan by acclamation, then again chairman of our growing Alliance by the same process.” He blinked apology. “So, ultimately, it is I who have failed, not Gener-aal Aalden or Ahd-mi-raal Keje-Fris-Ar! I bear the greater responsibility.” He shook his head at the rising denial.

“It is true. Too long I have remained disassociated, content to allow others who know more of war than I to set the policy of the war, define its goals, select the stratagems. That must end-I must end it. I am to blame for the situation our family”-he bowed his head to Audry-“faces in Indiaa, because up until this moment, it is I who have neglected my duties. I put it to you now-representatives of all the Western Allies are here, at least-to reaffirm my acclamation or cast me out.”

He held up a hand to still the surprised roar that began. “But only bear this in mind,” he cautioned. “If I am sustained, there will be no more bickering, no jockeying for precedence among the various Homes. Those Homes will retain their identity as in the past, but they must follow the example of the Amer-i-caan clan; independent but a loyal part of the whole-dedicated to the whole. We will move forward as one people to defeat the twin scourges that threaten us in the west and the east, and I will be chairman in deed as well as name. I will decide the priorities of this war, with your able counsel, and I will make the final stra-tee-gic decisions!”

He paused in the near silence that followed his words. “Think carefully, my people, before you decide. What I ask has never been done, not here. And remember this condition: if I am sustained, it will be with a mandate to win the war-and it will last until the bitter end!”

“We cannot acclaim such a thing!” shouted the Sularan representative. “We are too few!”

“I have communicated with Saan-Kakja of the Fil-pin Lands, and she pledges her support, as does the Governor-Empress of the New Britain Isles.”

“But that is different! They enjoy hereditary rights, much like the Queen of B’mbaado!”

“Who at this moment is fighting for her life-and yours-in Indiaa! Have you so little support from your people?”

“Have you such great support from yours?” the Sularan countered.

“We will see, I suppose,” Adar murmured. “They might cast me out. A sufficient number of the various representatives might do so as well-or your Home can always leave the union that I propose. But until that time, as long as I am chairman, I will pursue the war as I see fit, until absolute victory is achieved! If I fail, it will because I did something wrong. Not because I did nothing!”

Taylor Anderson

Iron Gray Sea — 07

La Plaza Sagrada del Templo de los Papas

The Holy Dominion

April 3, 1944

The sultry night was utterly black and almost as utterly silent. Occasional steps echoed off the stone pavement of the plaza, accompanied by ghostly, hovering lamps that marked their course. Otherwise the vast expanse was virtually abandoned for once. It was a time for fasting and prayer throughout the Dominion, and there would be no boisterous crowds, shouting vendors, or garishly clad revelers celebrating ancient gods-now officially “servant saints” to the One God-for several days to come.

Kari-Faask had gathered that much, but it was difficult to summon any real interest. Perhaps she would be left in peace for a short time. Her spirit hadn’t shattered entirely, but it had been laid very low at last, and she couldn’t rouse herself to care about much of anything anymore. No one had pestered her the day that Fred and Don Hernan came to her, but she’d been so depressed by Fred’s attitude and transformation that she hardly noticed-and the torment resumed afresh the following day when a different festival commenced. She rarely snarled at the gawkers that gathered around her cage or poked at her with sticks that vendors had started selling for the purpose, and she stopped trying to keep herself fit on the meager slop they fed her. She’d grown too weak and lethargic to do much at all but lie in the vermin-infested, rotting straw within the iron-barred cube that no one bothered to clean anymore. The cage had become her whole world. In a few days, the plaza would fill again as yet another bloody festival began, and she almost hoped, at long last, they’d take her from the cage and drag her to the high top of the central, black-stained temple and end her misery. Even if she’d had the strength, she no longer had the will to resist. The spectacles she’d seen performed there filled her with horror-but the horror would be brief and then she would be free.