Ordinarily, Revenge would heave to and lower a boat. They were going to have to think of something else this time, since all the ship’s boats had been either lost or badly damaged. This must’ve become apparent to the flying boat’s crew, because as Revenge drew near, a small rubber raft appeared in the water under the plane’s left wing. Almost as soon as it did, however, it began to deflate.
«Damn flashies,» Rick muttered, realizing the fish must have torn the raft apart. «I wonder what now?»
Eventually a man and a Lemurian appeared out of the top of the pilot’s compartment and climbed up onto the wing. Slowly, they made their way to the end and crouched there waiting above the float.
«Dangerous,» Kas observed.
Rick nodded and called to the helmsman. «Easy there! Don’t so much as scratch that plane. Captain Reddy would never forgive us!»
Slowly, Revenge wallowed up to the plane. When she was just a few fingtip, Tikker leaped lightly across. Ed Palmer followed close behind, but with less self-assurance. Waiting hands grabbed him and kept him from falling backward into the water, and his face was drained of color as he stuck out his hand to Rick.
«Man, are you ever a sight for sore eyes!» Rick said happily as he grasped it. Ed returned the greeting with a small, sickly smile of his own, but he seemed distracted. He was looking around at the ship. In spite of rols throughout, cursing and maneuvering the plane against the swells as best he could. When the six were safely transferred, the Revenge crew who’d assisted with the operation all scampered back aboard their ship to await the oncoming horde. Even Gandy Bowles, whom Rick practically ordered to leave, elected to remain behind. Ed crawled out to the wingtip once more and Rick Tolson met him just a few feet away with a leather-bound book in his hand. He had to shout to be heard over the engines as the PBY cruised alongside.
«Here’s my log. Give it to Captain Reddy! It’s a damned exciting read, if I say so myself!»
Ed grabbed his hat before the wind took it over the side. His eyes were stinging. From the salt spray, he told himself. «I’ll give it to him,» he managed to reply.
«Kas wrote something in there for Keje. They’re cousins, you know.» Ed nodded. Rick spared a glance to the north. The mass of enemy ships was close enough now that individual forms could be seen upon them. Their garish banners fluttered ominously in the stiff west wind. In the distance, still beyond the horizon, a dark smudge of smoke was vaguely visible. Maybe one of the damn things has caught fire, Ed hoped bitterly. They’d cut it as close as they dared.
«Tell Captain Reddy. thanks,» continued Rick, handing the book across. «Thanks for the opportunity. It’s been a blast. I always knew I was a pirate at heart!» White teeth shone in his tanned, bearded face. «Now get the hell out of here, Signalman Palmer!»
Ed nodded again, and standing as straight as he dared on the swooping wing, he braced to attention and threw Rick Tolson the best salute he knew how. With that, he turned and made his way carefully back to the space between the engines. Mallory throttled back so as not to blow him into the sea, and Palmer dropped down into the pilot’s compartment and disappeared.
Calmly, Captain Tolson, commander of Revenge, turned to Kas-Ra-Ar. «Clear for action!» he said, the grin still on his face. «Boy, I get such a kick out of saying that!»
«That’s it? Six?» Mallory demanded. Ed nodded without a word. «Shit!» shouted Ben in frustration. «Now I know what the captain meant when he asked me what I’d do!» Ed had no idea what he was talking about, but given the context of the situation, he could make a pretty good guess. «All right,» Mallory said at last. «Strap in. As soon as we’re airborne, try to raise Walker again. You have ten minutes. Then I want you on the nose gun. Tell those ’Cats in the waist to get ready too.» He fiddled with the throttles as he turned the plane into the wind. «Maybe if we strafe ’em a few times we’ll scare ’em off,» he added doubtfully.
The engines roared and the hull pounded and thundered beneath their feet as the plane tried to increase speed, but instead it just seemed to wallow through the choppy swells.
«C’mon! C’mon!» Mallory shouted, and slammed the throttles to their stops.
«What’s the matter?» Palmer shouted from behind him. Tikker sat, perfectly still, both eyes clenched shut.
«Oh, ah, nothing, Ed. It’s just a little rougher than I’m used to!» His voice was vibrating sympathetically with the airplane.
«I’m gonna be sick!» Palmer moaned when the plane pitched nose-first into a larger wave that seemed to arrest all forward motion. «Air-sick and seasick all at once!»
Surprisned by the staccato bursts of one.30- and two.50-caliber machine guns. The firing in the waist was accompanied by high-pitched squeals of delight. The airframe vibrated more than usual with the recoil of the guns and Ben continued his tight-banking turn to keep his indicated targets in range. Geysers of water marched from ship to ship and then disappeared when the bullets struck wood. Tightly packed Grik warriors were slaughtered in droves.
«Let ’em have it!» Ben screamed. Revenge vanished behind another cloud of smoke and this time the foremast of one of the closest ships tottered into the sea. Dragged around by the trailing debris, the ship veered sharply to port and speared into another Grik ship sailing directly alongside. Others slammed into the entangled wrecks from behind and it looked to Ben like a giant chain-reaction pileup on the highway.
«Hell, yes! Outstanding!» he shouted as still more ships added to the catastrophe.
«What are those ones doing?» Tikker asked, pointing. Ben looked. Several ships had broken from the pack and were trying to cut Revenge off. If they crossed her bow, the ship’s guns wouldn’t bear and they’d be free to grapple. Once that happened, it would be all over but the dying.
«New targets!» yelled Ben. «Engage the ships out front! One of them looks different. bigger! And the hull’s white and gold — not red. I bet it’s special somehow. Give it an extra dose!» The nose gun and the port.50 stitched the sea around the unusual ship. Splinters and debris erupted and bodies fell, while others tried to surge away from the impacts. A few even fell into the sea.
«I’m empty!» came a frustrated, keening shriek from aft. So much for controlled bursts. Ben stomped on the right rudder pedal and banked the opposite direction, allowing the starboard gunner a chance.
«Make ’em count!» he snarled. The plane rattled as the other gun resumed fire. Down below, Revenge was wreathed in smoke. Bright jets of flame stabbed out at irregular intervals. Several enemy ships were almost upon her and they were being systematically dismantled. Masts crowded with struggling forms fell into the sea and at least one of the enemy was dead in the water, its shattered bow dipping low. So far, none of the enemy had employed their «Grik Fire,» however. They seemed intent on coming to grips with Revenge, whatever the cost.
«They want her in one piece,» Ben surmised aloud. There was nothing he could do about it. Ed’s gun had fallen silent in the nose. The PBY wasn’t carrying much ammunition — it was never imagined that it would need more than would be necessary to keep a threat at bay while it took off. Much like what had happened right after they discovered it. Now, even as the starboard waist gun continued to stutter, grappling hooks arced through the air, trailing their lines behind them like hundreds of spiders casting their webs.
«Damn it!» Ben exclaimed. His voice cracked. «They want her guns!»
Ed reappeared at his shoulder. «Rick won’t let them take her,» he said with sad, quiet certainty. Even as they circled, watching with sick fascination, more and more enemy vessels crowded forward like ants upon a stricken comrade. Revenge had disappeared entirely within the forest of masts and the only way they could tell her position was by the proximity of the strange white ship and the hazy column of smoke that still rose from the center of the mass. The final waist gun was silent now, but still Ben orbited above. On the d billowing cloud of smoke. Masts toppled outward from the blast like trees on the slope of a volcano and fiery debris rocketed into the sky. The plane was buffeted by the shock wave of the explosion and Ben fought the wheel to regain control. He quickly banked again to see the results through his suddenly unfocused eyes. Eight or ten ships had been in close contact with Revenge when she blew herself up. Two were just gone, and three more were smoldering wrecks. Vigorous fires had taken hold on several more and the smoke added to the vast pall now drifting down wind. Of Revenge and the white ship that had been beside her, there was no sign.