25
////// Guayakwil Bay
New Granada Province (Ecuador)
May 10, 1944
Second Fleet had been running wild along the west coast of the Holy Dominion, from what would have been San Salvador in the north, and south beyond where Lima, Peru, should have been. Ships were cut out of harbors at night or left burning in the daylight. Soon, virtually nothing moved by sea between Dominion ports within range of Maaka-Kakja or DD-escorted tenders carrying Nancy seaplanes to bomb and scout the enemy. Planes and pilots had been lost to malfunctions, weather, and simple inexperience, but Grikbirds had taken an increasing toll as well—particularly in certain areas—and that struck High Admiral Harvey Jenks and Admiral Lelaa-Tal-Cleraan as significant. Clearly there were places the Doms didn’t want them to see, but that had been the case since the Empire of the New Britain Isles first knew them. Always a secretive society, described mostly by the illiterate slaves they sold or the company captains allowed only in certain ports, the nature of the Dominion remained amazingly vague. Its priests were twisted monsters, and its troops were competent and savage, but little was known of the country itself beyond those few ports. Regardless how costly, reconnaissance was essential.
One place no one had ever been allowed was the Sea of Bones, north, where the Gulf of California ought to be. No Imperial ship had ever returned from there, and Harvey and Gerald McDonald themselves, as young midshipmen, once attempted to reach it from Imperial holdings in the north by crossing the most horrible desert known. They failed, and were forced back by desiccating heat and terrible predators that took most of their expedition. That place was of little concern at present, however. The Dom capital was presumed to lie within the Valley of Mexico, based on the Dom pope’s title and the apparent holiness his priests ascribed to the place, but Harvey wasn’t interested in the enemy capital just yet either. He had nowhere near the forces for anything so ambitious. The presumably sparsely populated breadbasket of the Dominion in South America was his goal. Not even to take it yet, but to prick it, bleed it, force the enemy to protect it—and, incidentally, spread his forces across a continent.
Two other places had always been strictly protected by the Doms. The coast near Acapulco was one—which made sense, considering it gave access to the Valley of Mexico—and the other was the region surrounding what the American charts described as Costa Rica. No one knew why the Doms considered that such an important place, but the fact that it was suddenly so fiercely guarded by so many Grikbirds that none of Orrin Reddy’s planes could approach it was sufficient reason to send a squadron of steam frigates to investigate. Ships were even now on their way—just as other elements of Second Fleet made their first landings on enemy soil.
There were three landings in all. One force of a thousand Imperial Marines went ashore at a sleepy fishing village called Quito. Another force of five hundred men and ’Cats landed at Chiklaya, in the south, but the largest incursion was at a respectable port city named Guayak, in a large bay called Guayakwil on Imperial charts. All three were just east of the Enchanted Isles and close enough together that they might support one another. Also, it seemed logical to occupy, long term or short, the most likely places a Dom attempt to retake the Isles might assemble. It was equally logical to take their first step on Dominion soil close enough to their base of operations that they could most easily support or relieve it, or, if necessary, evacuate. It was a tentative peek, to be sure, but it was also the first offensive act of the war in the East.
The first invasions of Dom America occurred without warning. There was no naval bombardment and there hadn’t even been recon flights for several days before the landings, so they came as a complete surprise. Barges crunched ashore unopposed in various places along the coast, and columns quickly slogged through the darkness to converge on their objectives. With the dawn, Colonel Blair met Captain Blas-Ma-Ar along the Guayak harbor waterfront, where the battalions under their direct control completed lightning sweeps through the city. Few inhabitants had shown themselves at that early hour, other than to peer from doors or wood-shuttered windows before slamming them closed again. Occasional shots echoed as Marines encountered Dom soldiers. Maybe they were part of the sleepy garrison of the formidable fortress overlooking the town, but the fortress itself fired no shots at the DDs that crept ever closer or the barges that carried more and more troops ashore, virtually under its guns.
“I don’t get it,” Captain Blas told Blair, blinking and swishing her tail in agitation. “Where are all the daamn Doms?”
“I’ve no idea,” Blair replied worriedly, staring at the fortress. He was relieved, of course, but nervous that they hadn’t faced any real opposition. It didn’t make sense. The sky was growing brighter, but the town still lay in shadows cast by the rugged mountains to the east. “The fabled Andes, I believe,” he remarked, turning to look at the high, craggy range. “I never dared hope to stand beneath them!”
Blas blinked mild annoyance. “You think they seen us comin’ and took to the hills?”
Blair shook his head, stirred from his reverie. “Why?” He gestured back at the fortress. “That wouldn’t have stopped us, but it could’ve made things a bit tedious. I can only assume we did indeed achieve complete surprise.”
“If it’s aall right with you, sur, I’ll keep assumin’ they let us aashore, and still mean to take us completely by surprise!” Blas said darkly.
“Quite right you should, Captain,” Blair agreed. He motioned for an orderly and consulted a map the man held before him. He pointed at it. “Take your battalion north along the waterfront to this shipbuilding district. That’s where your Eighth Maa-ni-la is landing. Make sure there are no surprises waiting for them!”
“Ay, ay, Col-nol Blair!” She turned. “First Sergeant Spook!” she called to a pale-furred ’Cat named Spon-Ar-Aak, who still considered himself primarily a gunner’s mate on Walker. Chack-Sab-At had set the precedent for such dual identities, and it stuck. Spook belonged to A Company, but he’d fought the Doms before, and Blas used him almost like an exec. The young replacement lieutenants in her 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marines didn’t mind. They knew they had much to learn, and the 2nd of the 2nd remained one of the most prestigious outfits in the Alliance, even if its sister battalion had practically ceased to exist in the West.
“Ay, Caap’n?” Spook replied, hurrying up.
“Start ’em moving toward the shipyard. We’ll push out as big a perimeter as we can and wait for the Eighth to fill it in behind us!”
“Ay, ay!” He turned to the Marines. “Aall right! “You heard the caap’n! Column o’ fours, at the quick time—haarch!”
Blas saluted Blair and followed her Marines.
“Remarkable creatures,” volunteered Major Dao Iverson, 2nd Battalion, 6th Imperial Marines. The man was Blair’s exec. His tone wasn’t exactly condescending, but didn’t match the esteem Blair held for Lemurian troops.
Blair glared at him. “Quite remarkable people, Major Iverson, and staunch allies when we desperately need them.”
“Of course. Forgive me, Colonel Blair. No slight intended, and I know our allies’ worth. It remains odd to me to see females in their ranks, however.”
Blair had to agree with that, and sighed. “They’ll be in our ranks soon enough, I shouldn’t wonder, if we don’t quickly finish this war. They’re already on our support ships—and the warships of our allies.” He smiled at Iverson. “We must convince ourselves that we fight to make a better world, for we can’t—mustn’t—remake the old. The treachery and evil that lurked unseen, even at home, is sufficient reason why we should not even want to do such a thing.”
“Of course,” Iverson repeated noncommittally. “What are your orders for my battalion?”
“No change. Push toward the fortress and ensure it truly is undefended. If it awakes, hold back and let the Navy’s guns do their work before you launch your assault. We’ll lose no more men than we must. You understand?”
“Perfectly.”
“Then good luck to you.”
Blair remained there for some time, watching more troops come ashore and listening to reports relayed by runners from all over the city. Aircraft finally appeared over the bay, scouting inland and northward, but they attacked nothing and there was still no significant resistance from any quarter. He could hardly believe they’d accomplished such overwhelming surprise, and given its proximity to the Enchanted Isles, Guayak should’ve been packed with troops. It really made no sense.
The streets remained largely empty as the sun’s rays finally washed across them, but some of the natives were venturing out at last, gawking at the newcomers. Squads swept in to search homes and shops, ensuring the enemy hadn’t simply hidden, waiting to spring forth at a predetermined time, but so far there was no evidence of that. More Dom troops were found, but they’d been hiding in fear, not anticipation, and nearly all were old men and boys, not prime Dom infantry. Most surrendered easily enough.
Blair turned to watch the progress of Iverson’s battalion scaling the slope beneath the fortress west of town. There’d still been no shots fired there. He was frowning when he heard his name called, and he saluted General Tamatsu Shinya as the former Japanese naval officer approached with his staff.
“Good morning, General,” Blair said.
“It is good,” Shinya replied wryly. “Perhaps too good for comfort?”
“Indeed.”
“What news?”
Blair nodded at another runner, just trotting off. “The comm ’Cats, as you call them, are stringing telegraph lines as we speak, and installing their wireless gear and other equipment in that impressive building there.” He pointed at an elegant but scantly adorned hall. “We won’t have to rely on runners much longer. Perhaps a hundred Dom troops have been captured, and we’re trying to determine whether we can communicate with them. As you know, most Imperial officers have a smattering of Spanish, but the dialect here seems inconvenient.”
“What of the civilians? Have you spoken to any of them?”
“I haven’t, General, not yet. I just learned that some civil officials are forming a delegation to speak to us, however. I instructed that they be escorted to that building as well. I’m told there’s a chamber within that should be suitable for a conference.”
Shinya was looking at the HQ Blair had chosen. “I wonder what manner of building it is? There is some interesting architecture here.”
Blair nodded. “Yes. Quite interesting. A great deal of stone is used, but the structures seem most ambitious. Arches and columns abound. At least here in the center of town. When we passed through the outlying areas, there were grass-and-mud huts. Quite a contrast. As for our HQ, it could be a government office, bank, even a church, for all I know. I haven’t been inside.” He paused, seeing Shinya’s expression. “If it is a church, there was no evidence of any . . . unnatural acts having been performed inside,” he assured him. “I specifically asked.”
“Well, then,” Shinya said, “shall we meet this delegation? Perhaps they can explain the situation here.”
More than a dozen local men were brought to what they learned was a library of some kind. There were no books, but tens of thousands of parchmentlike scrolls were inserted into thousands of square partitioned slots built into every wall. The wooden dividers were richly stained and sealed and the scrolls appeared well tended and mostly new. Long tables were arrayed about the chamber where older scrolls were apparently being copied, and it was in this way, Shinya assumed, that they prevented the loss or degradation of the knowledge stored in this place. The men who joined them were dressed strangely in heavy, brightly colored robes that touched the floor around their sandals. A few wore odd headgear, but none wore anything as large and gaudy as the “pope hats” of the Blood Cardinals. In fact, there didn’t appear to be any representatives of the twisted faith in attendance at all. That was fine, because one of the first acts performed in the building was to tear down a large, gold-painted perversion of the Christian cross and throw it in the street. The Dom cross reflected the warped nature of their faith, as far as the Imperials were concerned. It was a gnarled, twisted, knotty thing festooned with spikes and sharp, thorny carvings. The locals who entered the chamber would’ve had to step right over it, but showed no outrage or discomfort. To the utter amazement of all present, they actually wore broad smiles on their dark faces!
“I’m not sure what the devil we’ve gotten into here, General,” Blair murmured into Shinya’s ear.
Shinya’s face reflected nothing, but he answered with a sharp, curt nod. “Who speaks for you?” he asked the delegation.
“I am Suares. I shall speak for my Lord Don Ricardo del Guayak, whose city you have liberated from the vile oppression of the Dominion,” said a tall man, less well dressed than the others. “I was once a trader to your, ah, la compañia, though I prefer to think of myself as a savior of children, and am the only one in Guayak who has your tongue.” He gestured at the others. “Nor do these great men speak the Spanish well. Our city has long clung tightly to older ways,” he explained, then proceeded to name those present. Shinya nodded at them all, and bowed slightly when Don Ricardo was named.
“Very well,” Shinya said after introducing himself and the officers present. “You may interpret for us. How long you do so depends on your absolute honesty. We have your city in our power and will leave it in ruins if we suspect you are lying to us about anything.”
“Have no concern, General Shinya!” Suares exclaimed. “You are our liberators, friends! We will do anything we can to help!”
No one knew what they’d expected when they first set foot on Dominion soil, but no one ever dreamed of a friendly greeting.
“We shall see. Tell me, why are there so few Dominion troops here? Why is the fortress abandoned?”
Suares shrugged. “They left. Six days ago there were perhaps nine thousand warriors of his evil unholiness in and around Guayak, but they marched northeast up the military road toward Manizales.” Shinya glanced at Blair, suddenly concerned for the thousand troops they’d landed at Quito, and Blair waved an orderly out to relay the news by wireless.
“Why?” Shinya demanded. “And they left almost no garrison at all? You must forgive my disbelief!”
“I do not lie,” Suares assured. “Virtually the entire garrison marched away with the substantial force assembled here. Our overlords are arrogant, you see, and I admit even we”—he gestured at the rest of the delegation—“never dared hope you might actually come to this land.” Suares seemed almost amused. “We have long been assured that no invader could possibly set foot on our sacred soil. He would burn! Ignite! The very earth would consume his bones with fire! All the blood priests swear to this, and though I did not believe it, we feared that you might!”
“That wicked Don Hernan often made such assertions,” Blair remarked quietly, “when he was in the Empire. None considered it more than a pathetic boast.”
“Clearly that’s all it was,” Shinya agreed wryly, noticing the fearful reactions of the locals to the mention of Don Hernan. Obviously, they knew who he was. “But just as clearly,” he continued, “the people of this land did not think so. Never underestimate the delusional power of irrationality, or the wild lie told often enough with suitable conviction!”
Blair frowned at what sounded like a slight against all religion, and Shinya smiled. “No! Regardless of what I once believed, I’ve become quite spiritual. But I came to my beliefs down a most rational road.” He looked back at Suares. “Why did the army march away?”
“To attack you, we assumed to our sorrow. From what we gleaned, a great fleet prepares to attack Las Islas de las Galápagos, and the army that left here was but a portion of what will board transports for that purpose. The intent is to cleanse you from Las Islas forever, before you grow too strong there.”
“What fleet?” Blair demanded derisively. “We’ve destroyed it!”
Suares regarded him gravely. “We heard that as well, that you scoured the Western Sea of every Dominion warship you could find. Unfortunately, from our point of view, you cannot have found them all, because you could not know where to look.” He sighed. “My country has many secrets, some very dark and terrible, some very old. Many of our oldest secrets involve the safety of my country, and even I voluntarily kept them all my life. But Nuevo Granada has soured into a rotten stone in the breast of my country, and the old ways are not only discouraged, as they have been for so long, but now stamped upon. Precious children are again offered in sacrifice to a god not even our own! They are no one’s gods. They go only to pleasure los papas, who sacrifice them to themselves when they tire of them! It is abomination! Darkest, deepest evil!”
“A moment, please,” Shinya said, holding up a hand. “What is Nuevo Granada?”
Suares looked at him. “Of course you would not know.” He paused as if fighting a lifetime of conviction, then spoke. “It is the foremost city of the Dominion, where el Templo de los Papas stands. It is from there that all evil in the world radiates.”
“Not all evil,” Shinya muttered, thinking of the Grik.
“But we thought your capital was in the Valley of Mexico!” Blair exclaimed.
“Of course you would, and once it was. Apparently you have been deceived for over a hundred years. No mean feat.”
“But, then, where is this Nuevo Granada?” Shinya demanded.
Suares shrugged. “Here. All of this province is a part, but the city lies perhaps fifteen hundred miles northeast, across the great mountains and the sea of leaves.”
“Is there a map in this place?” Shinya demanded. “Show us!”
One of the men brought a scroll and spread it on the table. Shinya, Blair, and the other Allied officers leaned over to peer at the priceless piece of intelligence. One thing jumped out at them immediately. It was a small feature on the map, but it had remained utterly unknown or even suspected by anyone but the Doms for centuries, and it was suddenly clear where the Doms might keep a fleet of any size secret from the Empire forever.
“My God,” Blair whispered.
“Yes,” Shinya agreed. He rounded on Suares. “Could this fleet have sailed already?”
“I cannot know. The army that marched from here could not have reached it yet, but I do not know any specific plans.”
“Well, what will the Doms do when they learn we’ve taken . . . that we’ve landed at this place?”
“They must take it back! Your very presence mocks their most profound delusions and assails their deepest beliefs! Most corrosively, it exposes the ultimate, oft-told lie you describe so well.” He considered. “There is another consideration.” He seemed to fidget. “Forgive me, but I must ask: what manner of creatures accompanies your force? The furred ones with tails?”
Shinya blinked. He was so accustomed to Lemurians now that he sometimes forgot to consider what those who weren’t might think of them at first glance. “They’re Lemurians, Mi-Anaaka. They’re fine people who come from . . .” He paused. “Lands far to the west. They fight against the Dominion with the same conviction and determination as anyone.”
“No doubt,” Suares hedged, “but you are sure they are all from the West? None may have come from here?”
“Not to our knowledge or theirs,” Shinya answered truthfully, and Suares seemed to sigh with relief. “Why?” Shinya demanded suspiciously.
“It only occurred to us that perhaps, just perhaps, some of the old legends were true, that they were jaguar warriors come to avenge themselves against those who do not revere their God.” He looked nervously at his lord. “We in Guayak persecute no one for their beliefs; we all share the displeasure of the Temple! But, though most here do not, some still revere the jaguar of the Old World we were cast from for our sins. Some feared . . .” He shook his head. “You are sure?”
Shinya suppressed a smile. “I suppose one can never be entirely sure about such things. Who am I to ponder the means or intent of any god? But I assure you, ferocious as our ’Cats can be in battle, they will harm no one based solely on their beliefs.” Suares looked relieved, as did the rest of the delegation when he translated Shinya’s words. “Now,” Shinya prodded, “how will the Doms push us out?”
“I suspect the army that marched from here will be sent back. Such a move might delay their offensive against you in Las Islas, but they can raise troops more quickly from around Manizales than from here.”
“Mr. Blair,” Shinya snapped. “Send this out immediately! All of it!”
“What about the troops at Quito?”
“Have them pull out, back here for now, and advise Admiral Lelaa to order that squadron of DDs back from its scout toward Costa Rica. I think it’s clear what the enemy has been hiding from us now!” He glanced at Suares. “If the enemy is gathering a great fleet there, I don’t want three DDs to run into it.”
“At once, General!”
“You . . . will stay here, will you not, General Shinya?” Suares suddenly pleaded.
“I don’t know if we can,” Shinya admitted.
“But if you abandon us, we are doomed!” Suares almost wailed. “Our women, our children—all will be slain simply because we saw you! It will not even matter what we might have said!”
“We’ll consider that; you have my word,” Shinya replied. “In the meantime, please talk with your people; assure them they have nothing to fear from us. Our only quarrel is with the Dominion that has made war on us, not the civilian population it oppresses. Return tomorrow, after we’ve had time to discuss what we’ve learned, and I promise we’ll keep you informed.” He stopped and looked at every member of the delegation, meeting each gaze. “And regardless of what we decide, we won’t abandon you.”
“What do you think?” Blair asked after the locals were gone. “Do you believe them?”
“Yes,” Shinya said simply, then gestured at the countless scrolls and pointed at the map still on the table. “They didn’t know we were coming, so I can’t believe they prepared that just to deceive us! And based on that map, everything else suddenly makes a great deal of sense. Does it not?”
Blair nodded, frowning. “And Suares was plainly terrified that we’d leave them. But what shall we do? What can we do? Even if we gather all our forces here, we’ll still be badly outnumbered unless we ask for more troops from High Admiral Jenks. I’ve no doubt we’ll drub them soundly, even with what we have, but do we want a major battle here?”
“Admiral Jenks will have to decide, and he’ll have to weigh it against the possibility that a very large force truly is preparing to attack the Enchanted Isles. That may limit the resources he can send to our aid, but I sense an opportunity. Based on what Mr. Suares said, it can’t be good for the enemy’s morale simply that we’re here. If we can defeat him on his ‘holy’ soil, regardless how remote from his capital, word will spread. It always does. How will he react to that? I, for one, would enjoy finding out.” His eyebrows furrowed. “One thing is certain: Whatever Admiral Jenks decides, we can’t leave these people undefended. I’m convinced Suares spoke the truth when he said they’d be slaughtered. Not only does it fit what we know of the character of our enemy, but it makes a twisted sense from his perspective—and we brought that fate to the people here. If we stay, we fight—and we shall enlist as many locals as we can to help. Word of rebellion will also spread, and can’t hurt our cause.” He shrugged. “If we leave, however, we must take as many of them with us as we can. I see no alternative if we’re not to be thought as wicked as the Doms ourselves.”