Taylor Anderson - Destroyermen

If there are any old destroyermen out there who served on DD-102 or DD-163, you certainly have my respect and gratitude, and I mean no disrespect toward the honorable service of either ship. Instead, I hope you will join me in engaging in a little "what if?" As Captain Reddy said, "All historians do it, whether they admit it or not."

Obviously, Destroyermen is set, for the most part, within the context of an alternate universe. The fascinating possibility of one or many alternate/parallel universes has long provided wonderful worlds for sciencefiction/fantasy writers to explore. Even more fascinating is the growing scientific speculation that they might actually exist. Unfortunately, none of these new theories, attitudes, or even popular culture perceptions could be referenced in Destroyermen . The characters' perceptions of the alternate/ parallel universe must be viewed from the perspective that they had: a perspective prevalent in the 1940s, particularly among Asiatic Fleet destroyermen. I hope I have managed to capture that.

Unlike many stories involving a similar premise, the universe the destroyermen cross to is not just slightly skewed; it is the result of a profoundly and fundamentally altered evolutionary path. The "dinosaurs" in the story are depicted somewhat from whim, but with at least a little more modern perspective than the characters are able to perceive them. We now know so much more about dinosaurs than we did even when I was a kid—we have virtually started from scratch. Compared to those destroyerman in 1942, we live in an extremely enlightened age—at least as far as dinosaurs are concerned—so before you say, "What an idiot! Doesn't he know brontosauruses weren't real?" Yeah, I do. But the destroyermen don't.

My childhood books depicted dinosaurs as bloated, lizard-like beasts slouching along dragging their tails, or spending most of their days bobbing about in lakes or seas because they were too fat to stand. Tyrannosaurus was cool because he had lots of teeth, but his tail was just a third leg so he could stand upright like a man. And if anybody ever mentioned a dinosaur, the first thing that popped into your mind was the brontosaurus.

We now know the brontosaurus was a myth—a hoax—an extra head bone stuck on a decapitated apatosaurus skeleton. But in 1942, brontosaurus was real. It was the symbol by which any dinosaur would be judged and identified as such. Anything that looked remotely like a sauropod would immediately be called or compared to a "brontosaurus"—even by someone as learned at Courtney Bradford.

In our universe, dinosaurs have been extinct for around 65 million years. In Destroyermen , this is not the case. Those same prehistoric creatures have not remained stagnant. Everything has evolved beyond what the fossil record teaches us—the flora, fauna, the very ecology, and, because of that, even the geography to a certain extent. The "extinction event" is the obvious diversion point between the two realities, but there have still been ice ages, droughts, floods, and other cataclysmic events that would cause other extinctions and guide evolution for 65 million years. But "brontosaurus" remains. Stunted, perhaps, but physically similar to what the destroyermen expect to see.

Brontosaurus—or whatever it is the destroyermen call brontosaurus— is an amazingly well-adapted creature. Nature has been trying to replace him ever since he went away, but without too much success. Crossbreed a giraffe and an elephant and we would have him, I guess. Anyway, as long as there was green, leafy stuff to eat he wouldn't have to change. He would get smaller in the jungles of Indonesia, though, just like the elephants that live there today are smaller than their African counterparts. In fact, there's evidence that sauropods—and those that hunted them—were actually smaller in densely forested regions.

The Grik are descended from one of the many species of "raptors," as they're now inclusively known. They were relatively small, aggressive, possibly even cunning creatures that may have hunted in packs. If so, that would imply cooperative and therefore social behavior. Regardless of size, this gives them a leg up, in my estimation, on the ladder to the top of the evolutionary heap.

The seas are so hostile for a lot of reasons, but mainly because the creatures that lived there 65 million years ago sure scare me to death, and my imagination runs rampant with how terrifying they could become if they had a little more time. Also, if they're in the water you can't even shoot them—usually.

Almost alone among the creatures of this different earth that remained unchanged are sharks, crocodiles—and the mythical brontosaurus. Sharks and crocs are still here, even after the ancient unpleasantness that wiped out everything else. Compared to that, I imagine they would manage to cope with a little more persistent competition.

Considering that competition, one begins to wonder how mammals might have fared. Not too well, according to some scientists. In the tropical regions in which the Grik thrive, an isolated domain—thus Madagascar— would be needed for mammals to evolve to a sentient level. Let's face it, if humanity did spring from Africa, our ancestors wouldn't have lasted very long in constant contact with the Grik. Let us hope they were at least thought of as "worthy prey."

But what of the cooler climes? Remember, the destroyermen that came through the Squall have been able to sample only a very small part of this new world they find themselves in. A relatively isolated and environmentally homogeneous part. What amazing discoveries might they make once they are able to do more than "float about," as Courtney Bradford would say? But again, what if?