Straits of Hell by Taylor Anderson Page B

himself wishing he knew where the loathsome, ingenious “Jaaph” was now. He assumed Zanzibar, but there’d been no reports. It was time to find out. “Ragak may even prevail,” he admitted, returning to the subject. “The enemy was sorely hurt. But at the least, he should make our return less difficult. We will, regrettably, have to keep the new transports that are under construction for our more considered effort.” More irony. The design for the “new” transports was actually quite ancient, predating the “old” design by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. But they were perfect for what Esshk now had in mind, and could quickly be assembled in huge numbers. “Otherwise, we shall finally use the greater portion of the airship fleet we have amassed. Granted, they have fared poorly against the more capable flying machines of the enemy,” Esshk confessed, “but we have so very
many
now—and I have seen for myself that the enemy’s machines are vulnerable to massed fire. Besides, they cannot have too many of them. One of the reasons we always considered the Celestial City secure was that Kurokawa assured me that flying enemies could not reach so far.” That was apparently true. But ships that carried flying machines could go wherever they liked.
    He snorted, watching the last of the crowd disperse while Ign’swarriors—his troops—marched back down the thoroughfare. Then he looked at the Palace of Vanished Gods. “That shall be our plan,” he said. “We shall support Ragak—to a point. We shall bomb the Celestial City nightly, without pause, from the air.” He caught Ign’s expression and coughed a chuckle. “Never fear! Mere fire could never harm the Celestial Palace!”
    â€œThen, Lord?” Ign asked.
    â€œThen, General Ign, we shall arm ourselves with the latest marvels the Jaaphs left us making, and take the greatest swarm ever seen across the Go Away Strait. I . . . sense that all is upon the scale and the heart of our foe is finally in our reach. Kurokawa always said their heart was their iron ship he hated so, but ships do not take timid prey and teach them to build fleets and flying machines—and frightfully capable armies. No, I think we shall find our enemy’s heart in the Celestial City when we return at last, and when I have devoured it, the scale will more than tip.”

CHAPTER 4
    ////// Indus River Valley
    G eneral Halik knelt and lapped cloudy water from the Indus River with feigned unconcern, but his eyes were fastened roughly two hundred yards away on the opposite, eastern bank—and on the regiment of me-naak mounted cavalry at the water’s edge. They were expressionless, as all Lemurians tended to be, but appeared to be watching him just as intently. He rose, shaking droplets from his snout, and ostentatiously turned his back on the enemy to gaze upon his army. It was a ragged, beaten force, encamped almost where it dropped, but through the exhaustion and resultant disability, there remained the discipline, order—the
pride
, that so distinguished it, even in defeat. No other Grik army had ever achieved so much.
    â€œThat cavalry are ‘regulars,’ from a place called Maa-ni-la,” General Shlook murmured, his snout also dripping after following Halik’s example. “I have learned to distinguish the pennants they fly.”
    â€œThey have formidable weapons,” Orochi Niwa reminded, still staring at the Lemurians astride what might be best described as long-legged crocodiles. “Shorter versions of the new breechloaders we began to see even before the battles in the Rocky Gap. Carbines, but fully capable of reaching us here.” He glanced at Halik, his expression slightly amused. Halik’s disdainful gesture had clearly been meant to impress his watching army. “I would not recommend you turn your back on Colonel Dalibor