Read Online Blood In the Water by Taylor Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

now barren ground of what had once been the capital Grik city, but once they apparently realized the bombing didn’t really hurt it, they bathed the structure withfirebombs and seared it with bright flames every night. Matt suspected the raids were more symbolic than anything now, a reminder that the Grik weren’t finished with them, and they’d taken to bombing the Celestial Palace simply because it was the easiest target.
    Chief Jeek’s bosun’s pipe trilled on the fo’c’sle, calling the special sea and anchor detail and fueling detail as
Walker
sidled up alongside
Santa Catalina
and took in fuel lines suspended from her cargo booms. Soon fuel oil coursed into
Walker
’s bunkers, pumped directly from one of the small oilers on the other side of the protected cruiser. Matt was in the pilothouse and stepped out on the port bridgewing to look up at “Mikey” Monk,
Santa Catalina
’s exec, overseeing the transfer. The ship’s captain, Russ Chappelle, appeared beside him and saluted Matt. Matt saluted back with a grin, then cupped his hands and shouted, “I’ll be over directly!” Russ nodded and waved.
    â€œMeetings. Ugh,” Spanky said from the captain’s chair bolted to the bulkhead when Matt reentered the pilothouse.
    Matt grinned sheepishly. “Couldn’t fight a war without ’em. There’s a Nancy floatplane hoisted on
Santy Cat
’s deck, so I guess Keje’s already been flown in. Better go, I guess.”
    â€œYou’ll have to run if you’re going like that,” Spanky warned, waving at Matt’s soiled and sweaty uniform. “If Juan catches you, he’ll hold you down and wipe your face with spit on a hanky!”
    Matt joined the rest of the bridge watch in a laugh. Juan Marcos was a Filipino who’d lost a leg fighting Doms in the Empire of the New Britain Isles at his captain’s side, but still took what he saw as his primary duty very seriously. He’d started as
Walker
’s officer’s steward, but had appointed himself “Chief Steward to the Supreme Commander,” and would throw a fit if Matt left the ship in such a state. “No, no, I’ll change,” he replied in mock alarm, convinced that Juan would already have laid out a set of Lemurian-made whites in anticipation of his departure. “You have the ship, Spanky, and keep a sharp lookout.”
    â€œAye, aye, Skipper,” Spanky answered with a tolerant grin. As if he needed a reminder for
that
.
    Matt, Surgeon Lieutenant Pam Cross, and Commander Bernard Sandison were received aboard
Santa Catalina
by a side party and a proper bosun’s pipe. Not all Lemurians could manage a pipe and most used whistles instead, but
Santy Cat
’s Chief Bosun was a gruff Bostoniannamed Stanley “Dobbin” Dobson. Smiling, Matt and his companions saluted the Stars and Stripes aft and the collection of humans and Lemurians there to meet them before shaking hands all around. Russ Chappelle was there, as was Kathy McCoy, the surgeon commander of all of First Fleet. Both were matching Matt’s smile. There were other familiar faces, but most unexpected was that of Dean Laney, his large form uncomfortably stuffed into another Lemurian-made copy of Navy whites adorned by the shoulder boards of a lieutenant (jg).
    Matt reflected that there’d been a lot of promotions, of necessity, among the survivors of his old crew and that of
Mahan
and S-19. Russ had been a torpedoman on
Mahan
, and Bernie Sandison had been
Walker
’s own torpedo officer. Now Russ commanded what was arguably the most powerful ship in the Alliance, and Bernie, while back at his old job at present, was also “minister of experimental ordnance.” Kathy had been a nurse lieutenant but had helped Sandra build an amazingly effective medical corps. It was the same everywhere; General of the Armies and Marines Pete Alden had been a sergeant in