regardless of the terrible losses they were inflicting, the defenders were too thin on the walls to hold for long. Matt leaned over and looked down at Shinya, Gray, and Keje, who were staring up at him expectantly.
“The army will advance!” he said in a loud, firm voice. He smiled briefly at the irony. It wasn’t an order he, a naval officer, had ever expected to give.
The barricade parted before them, and at the shouted commands of their officers, the Marines and Guards from Baalkpan and Big Sal and all the other Homes and places that had come to Aryaal’s aid stepped through the gaps with a precied the others on the exposed side, with nothing between them and the enemy but a gently swaying sea of marsh grass and flowers. There the army paused for a moment, flags fluttering overhead, as it dressed ranks and waited for the guns to make their more difficult way through the obstacles. Matt patted the Aryaalan aide on the arm and motioned for him to follow. The dinosaur bellowed a complaint when the aide pushed forward on a pair of levers that caused two sharpened stakes at the back of the platform-saddle they rode to jab down hard into the animal’s hips. With a sickening pitching motion, the beast began to move and the aide released the pressure on the stakes. Two long cables, like reins, snaked back along the beast’s serpentine neck and the aide pulled savagely on one of them, physically pointing the creature’s head in the direction he wanted it to go. Slowly, they trudged through the barricade and joined the army on the other side.
“God a’mighty, Skipper! I wish I had a camera!” came a voice from below and behind. Matt looked down. Dennis Silva and half a dozen other destroyermen were falling in on the animal’s flanks.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Matt called hotly. “We already have more men ashore than I’d like. You’re supposed to be assisting Lieutenant Ellis!”
Silva assumed a wounded expression. “I am, Skipper! But he’s a captain now too, you know. What with his own ship and all. He plumb ordered us off of it!” He gestured at the other men. “Said he couldn’t stand the very thought of us deck-apes foulin’ his engineerin’ spaces! I think he must’a been a snipe himself once upon a time,” he added darkly. “Put us ashore, and made us take these guns”—he brandished the Browning Automatic Rifle, or BAR, in his hand—“to keep ’em out of the workers’ way!” Silva shook his head. “No way back to Walker now, so we figgered we’d come along over here and keep you comp’ny watchin’ this fight.”
Matt tried to maintain a stern expression, but an unstoppable grin broke through. “My God, Silva, you missed your calling. Hollywood or Congress, that’s where you should be. I’ve never seen anyone tell such a ridiculous lie with such conviction.” He looked at Gray, glowering at Silva. “Chief, put these men on report. They can stay, but they’re in your custody and control. They will not fire their weapons without my orders. Is that understood?” Matt gestured at the backs of the Lemurian troops as they prepared to move forward again. “The last thing we need is for these people to start relying on our modern weapons to fight their battles. We just don’t have enough to make a difference.” He smiled sadly. “We could probably do it once, but that would be even worse.” He looked squarely at Gray. “Emergencies only. That’s an order.”
“But, Skipper, beggin’ your pardon, haven’t we been doing that already? With the ship?” Silva asked, genuinely confused.
Matt nodded. “Yes, we have, but there’s a difference. The ship is who we are. She’s what we are, as far as these people are concerned. She’s what’s given us the credentials to advise them and help them technologically and be believed. Of course we fight with the ship. That’s what’s allowed us to give them the confidence they’ll need to win this fight—and it’ll be
“The army will advance!” he said in a loud, firm voice. He smiled briefly at the irony. It wasn’t an order he, a naval officer, had ever expected to give.
The barricade parted before them, and at the shouted commands of their officers, the Marines and Guards from Baalkpan and Big Sal and all the other Homes and places that had come to Aryaal’s aid stepped through the gaps with a precied the others on the exposed side, with nothing between them and the enemy but a gently swaying sea of marsh grass and flowers. There the army paused for a moment, flags fluttering overhead, as it dressed ranks and waited for the guns to make their more difficult way through the obstacles. Matt patted the Aryaalan aide on the arm and motioned for him to follow. The dinosaur bellowed a complaint when the aide pushed forward on a pair of levers that caused two sharpened stakes at the back of the platform-saddle they rode to jab down hard into the animal’s hips. With a sickening pitching motion, the beast began to move and the aide released the pressure on the stakes. Two long cables, like reins, snaked back along the beast’s serpentine neck and the aide pulled savagely on one of them, physically pointing the creature’s head in the direction he wanted it to go. Slowly, they trudged through the barricade and joined the army on the other side.
“God a’mighty, Skipper! I wish I had a camera!” came a voice from below and behind. Matt looked down. Dennis Silva and half a dozen other destroyermen were falling in on the animal’s flanks.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Matt called hotly. “We already have more men ashore than I’d like. You’re supposed to be assisting Lieutenant Ellis!”
Silva assumed a wounded expression. “I am, Skipper! But he’s a captain now too, you know. What with his own ship and all. He plumb ordered us off of it!” He gestured at the other men. “Said he couldn’t stand the very thought of us deck-apes foulin’ his engineerin’ spaces! I think he must’a been a snipe himself once upon a time,” he added darkly. “Put us ashore, and made us take these guns”—he brandished the Browning Automatic Rifle, or BAR, in his hand—“to keep ’em out of the workers’ way!” Silva shook his head. “No way back to Walker now, so we figgered we’d come along over here and keep you comp’ny watchin’ this fight.”
Matt tried to maintain a stern expression, but an unstoppable grin broke through. “My God, Silva, you missed your calling. Hollywood or Congress, that’s where you should be. I’ve never seen anyone tell such a ridiculous lie with such conviction.” He looked at Gray, glowering at Silva. “Chief, put these men on report. They can stay, but they’re in your custody and control. They will not fire their weapons without my orders. Is that understood?” Matt gestured at the backs of the Lemurian troops as they prepared to move forward again. “The last thing we need is for these people to start relying on our modern weapons to fight their battles. We just don’t have enough to make a difference.” He smiled sadly. “We could probably do it once, but that would be even worse.” He looked squarely at Gray. “Emergencies only. That’s an order.”
“But, Skipper, beggin’ your pardon, haven’t we been doing that already? With the ship?” Silva asked, genuinely confused.
Matt nodded. “Yes, we have, but there’s a difference. The ship is who we are. She’s what we are, as far as these people are concerned. She’s what’s given us the credentials to advise them and help them technologically and be believed. Of course we fight with the ship. That’s what’s allowed us to give them the confidence they’ll need to win this fight—and it’ll be
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