Samuel Florman - The Aftermath

“Why do you come here as pirates and thieves instead of as friends? We are willing to share what we have, and to work with you. There is no need for this… this show.”

“Do not think it is just a show. Understand that it is a show of force. We mean to take what we need. Why should I believe your offer to share? The world is in ruins. My people are close to starvation. They are depending on me to feed them. They are desperate—as am I. Therefore, I will take—not ask, but take—and I will send my men back for more whenever there is a need. Eventually this region will become an outpost of my empire.”

“You should believe us because we tell the truth. We have no quarrel with you, no wish to withhold aid.” Hardy spoke slowly, deliberately, trying to find some ground on which he could negotiate. But the young woman, very clearly an American from her speech and demeanor, would give no quarter.

“You do not understand. I am not asking for anything but demanding. And if you defy me, you will pay with your life.” She lifted the rifle barrel so that it pointed at Dr. Hardy’s chin. “Perhaps I have made myself clearer.”

“You have, indeed,” Captain Nordstrom said, admiring Hardy’s steadfast courage, but fearful for his comrade’s life. He kept his own voice steady: “We do not wish to defy you, only to understand exactly what it is you need—what you demand.”

“Don’t try to soft-talk me, Swedish Man,” she said, swinging the gun suddenly in the captain’s direction.

“Norwegian,” Nordstrom said. He couldn’t help himself; but when he saw that he had angered her, he changed course. “And you are American, I presume.”

“Presume all you like, but where I come from does not matter a damn. The world is destroyed and everything is changed. It is where I am now that counts—and who I have become. I am Ranavolana, Queen of the Malagasys and Admiral of the Oceans. You, sir, are my subject, as are all of your people. Now, let’s move toward your settlement. Both of you, stay with me.” To her lieutenants, she said: “Bring the men forward, at the ready. We’ll establish ourselves in command of their village, and exact the tribute that is due us.”

Patel and Chaudri moved to her right and left, respectively, and ordered their men to advance.

She checked her watch, a cheap old Timex that had accompanied her on her globe-trotting tours over the past decade and still worked—miraculously. The timing of the operation so far was perfect. The reinforcements from the north should be approaching the village just about now.

At the sound of the first shot a half hour earlier, Captain Nordstrom had put into effect the defensive plan he and General White and the Expanded Defense Committee had devised. With a prearranged signal, he dispatched Deck Officer Gustafsson to the village to carry the news and help arrange the defenses. Before the pirate queen’s feet touched the sand, his trusted aide had disappeared into the darkness.

Early that morning the captain had been awakened by Gustafsson and Olav Hamsun, the Queen of Africa’s security officer. Runners from Ulundi had arrived with news: the Madagascar invasion force had been sighted by Inlander scouts in a cove about ten miles to the north of Engineering Village. At dawn, one body of men—approximately one hundred and fifty—had moved inland on foot and headed south toward the village. The fleet, with about two hundred and fifty men aboard, had sailed out to sea and then set a course toward the beach that served as the community’s port facility. The queen’s two pronged attack was launched. The captain had transmitted this information to General White, who was prepared to mobilize the defense forces. So, throughout the morning and early afternoon, troops from the Engineering Village battalion had been gathering in secret in the bamboo groves around the village. They did not interfere with any of the wedding preparations; they simply were not there. And in the midst of the hubbub they were scarcely missed.

To the north, the Ulundi battalion had been deployed to intercept the land invaders; and shortly after Queen Ranavolana’s fleet sailed, they had moved into action. The one hundred and fifty pirates were on the march, slovenly and unsuspecting, when the Ulundi force, five hundred strong—most of them young Zulus—attacked from the hills above. The assault quickly became a slaughter. The pirates fought with desperation, but they were surprised and outnumbered. And man for man, they were no match for the fierce warrior descendants of the mighty Shaka. Half the invaders were killed outright, including subcommander Yook Louie, who was simultaneously shot through the head with a bullet and run through the heart with a spear. Another twenty-five or so were wounded, which left only fifty standing. These threw down their arms and surrendered. Quickly, their hands were tied behind their backs. The whole operation was over in less than an hour. The surviving pirates, totally unnerved, were then forced to march south with their conquerors.

A courier on horseback brought news of the victory to General White and informed him that the Ulundi battalion, with its prisoners, was en route to the village, expecting to arrive by evening. The Defense Committee and the Coordinating Committee, meeting in a secret emergency session, were faced with a decision. It was now mid-day: Should the wedding celebration be allowed to proceed?

“Considering the alternatives,” Hardy had said, “I think we should carry on as normally as possible. A sudden cancellation would throw our people into a state of confusion that would only work to the benefit of the invaders. Besides,” he continued with a grim smile, “if you’ll permit a personal observation, my son—who you’ll note has not been informed of this meeting—is scheduled to get married in a little while, and I don’t want some two-bit so-called pirates to make us change our plans.”

General White agreed. “We have no way of knowing exactly where and when the invasion fleet plans to come ashore,” he said. “So let’s just stay alert and keep our troops at the ready but concealed. The mad queen’s eventual goal is certainly the village—and that is where we will prepare to meet her. In the meanwhile, let the celebration continue.” He stood up, ready for an adjournment of the meeting, but then turned toward Dr. Hardy and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just one thing, Wilson,” he said in a severe tone of voice. “I’m going back to join our fighting forces. But I don’t like the idea of missing a party, and I want it remembered that you owe me one!”

This lightened the mood as the secret meeting ended. Some of those in attendance filtered out to join the wedding festivities. Others, along with General White, went to rejoin the troops.

When darkness fell, the pirate fleet had made its appearance.

Ahead, Nordstrom and Hardy saw the lights of bonfires. Earlier in the day, these fires had been strategically placed to illuminate the length of the village, and orders were given for them to be ignited upon the approach of the enemy. The flickering glow now gave the scene a theatrical aspect, and the queen led her men confidently up to the small obelisk that marked the heart of the central square.

At this point, a shrill whistle was heard, and out of the shadows, on either side of the pirate force, there appeared a massed army stepping forward with practiced precision. To the invaders, this body of men appeared to be an enormous legion—a ghostly horde—arrayed row upon row and disappearing into the darkness. In reality, it was the Engineering Village battalion, somewhat less than five hundred in number, many of them armed with weapons of uncertain utility. But the most impressive-looking guns had been put into the hands of the front ranks, and the overall appearance of the force was fierce and intimidating.