Read Online Distant Thunders by Taylor Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Taylor Anderson
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said Matt. “Don’t want to stifle new ideas, but we need a lot of good ships more than we need a few perfect ones.” He turned to Keje and his expression softened. “What about Big Sal ?”
Keje frowned. “She is refloated,” he grumbled. “A simple matter of pumping her out. However, the damage to her upper works was . . . extreme. Your . . . bizarre . . . idea might not only be the best means of returning her to the fight, but the single realistic one as well.” He sighed. “I mourn my Home and yearn for her to be as she was, but I might as well yearn for the Grik to leave us alone of their own accord. I fear, with her conversion, our way of life will be altered forever. Will other Homes be changed as well? Will they even be Homes anymore, or forever become dedicated weapons of war? What of the wing clans? There is already resistance. How will I sort that out? I also confess that I find it exceedingly strange to rebuild her as a . . . conveyance for weapons that do not yet exist.”
“They’ll exist,” Ben Mallory assured him. “It’s going to take time, but there’s no question we can do it. Also, knowing the way you ’Cats like gizmos, I bet there’ll be less resistance than you expect.”
“You’ve settled on a design, then?” Matt asked.
Adar watched as the conference increasingly shifted from his grasp. He didn’t mind. In fact, it was as he’d hoped. Captain Reddy had been somewhat withdrawn since the loss of his ship, but the man was made for command. The situation required that someone step up and take it, and he was the best one for the job. Adar had set the policies, the goals they’d work toward; it was up to his Supreme Commander and the rest of his staff to decide how to implement those policies.
“Sir,” Mallory replied, “we’ve come at this from every angle and run into problems with just about every design.” He grinned. “I’d love to have P-40s, but that’s just not going to happen. Right now, I’m leaning toward a variation of the old Navy-Curtiss, or NC, flying boats.”
“Flying boats?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought we’d decided to raze Big Sal to a steam-powered flattop. Use her as an aircraft carrier.”
“She’ll still need to be flat to carry and maybe even launch the planes—like the old Langley —but we’ll fit her with cranes to lift the planes out of the water. See, the problem is wheels. That, and it would be nice if the aircrews could set the planes down if they’re damaged. If they don’t float, we’re going to lose a lot of guys. Sure not going to fish many out of the drink.”
“I see what you mean, but why not floats and wheels?”
Mallory scratched a scar under his bearded chin. “Well, believe it or not, Skipper, there’s no rubber. I know, it would be all over the place around here back home, but Courtney says even then it wasn’t indigenous. Whether anything like it exists somewhere else, who knows.” He paused and glanced at the blank faces around him. Of course, Lemurian faces were always blank, but none of them spoke up. “Anyway, there’s nothing like it here. Given enough time, we’ll probably come up with a synthetic, but our refining capability just isn’t that far along yet, and frankly, I don’t know how.” He looked at Bradford, who shook his head.
“ ’Fraid not. As Mr. Mallory has suggested, I know there has been some success making a synthetic rubber from petroleum, but I haven’t the faintest idea how it’s done.”
“So in the short term,” Mallory continued, “we’d be better off using rigid wheels and some sort of shock-absorbing arrangement. I still think floats are the way to go, though. At least for now.” He shook his head. “Believe me, Skipper, I wish that wasn’t so. Floatplanes add a lot of problems. They’ll likely be bigger, heavier and slower. Payload will be less and they’ll have greater power-to-weight requirements. More complicated, too. Basically, like I said,
Keje frowned. “She is refloated,” he grumbled. “A simple matter of pumping her out. However, the damage to her upper works was . . . extreme. Your . . . bizarre . . . idea might not only be the best means of returning her to the fight, but the single realistic one as well.” He sighed. “I mourn my Home and yearn for her to be as she was, but I might as well yearn for the Grik to leave us alone of their own accord. I fear, with her conversion, our way of life will be altered forever. Will other Homes be changed as well? Will they even be Homes anymore, or forever become dedicated weapons of war? What of the wing clans? There is already resistance. How will I sort that out? I also confess that I find it exceedingly strange to rebuild her as a . . . conveyance for weapons that do not yet exist.”
“They’ll exist,” Ben Mallory assured him. “It’s going to take time, but there’s no question we can do it. Also, knowing the way you ’Cats like gizmos, I bet there’ll be less resistance than you expect.”
“You’ve settled on a design, then?” Matt asked.
Adar watched as the conference increasingly shifted from his grasp. He didn’t mind. In fact, it was as he’d hoped. Captain Reddy had been somewhat withdrawn since the loss of his ship, but the man was made for command. The situation required that someone step up and take it, and he was the best one for the job. Adar had set the policies, the goals they’d work toward; it was up to his Supreme Commander and the rest of his staff to decide how to implement those policies.
“Sir,” Mallory replied, “we’ve come at this from every angle and run into problems with just about every design.” He grinned. “I’d love to have P-40s, but that’s just not going to happen. Right now, I’m leaning toward a variation of the old Navy-Curtiss, or NC, flying boats.”
“Flying boats?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought we’d decided to raze Big Sal to a steam-powered flattop. Use her as an aircraft carrier.”
“She’ll still need to be flat to carry and maybe even launch the planes—like the old Langley —but we’ll fit her with cranes to lift the planes out of the water. See, the problem is wheels. That, and it would be nice if the aircrews could set the planes down if they’re damaged. If they don’t float, we’re going to lose a lot of guys. Sure not going to fish many out of the drink.”
“I see what you mean, but why not floats and wheels?”
Mallory scratched a scar under his bearded chin. “Well, believe it or not, Skipper, there’s no rubber. I know, it would be all over the place around here back home, but Courtney says even then it wasn’t indigenous. Whether anything like it exists somewhere else, who knows.” He paused and glanced at the blank faces around him. Of course, Lemurian faces were always blank, but none of them spoke up. “Anyway, there’s nothing like it here. Given enough time, we’ll probably come up with a synthetic, but our refining capability just isn’t that far along yet, and frankly, I don’t know how.” He looked at Bradford, who shook his head.
“ ’Fraid not. As Mr. Mallory has suggested, I know there has been some success making a synthetic rubber from petroleum, but I haven’t the faintest idea how it’s done.”
“So in the short term,” Mallory continued, “we’d be better off using rigid wheels and some sort of shock-absorbing arrangement. I still think floats are the way to go, though. At least for now.” He shook his head. “Believe me, Skipper, I wish that wasn’t so. Floatplanes add a lot of problems. They’ll likely be bigger, heavier and slower. Payload will be less and they’ll have greater power-to-weight requirements. More complicated, too. Basically, like I said,
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