A Ship Must Die (1981) (38 page)

Blake had been knocked aside as a seaman fell from a voice-pipe clutching at his chest and screwing his uniform into a bright red ball. As he lurched to his feet he saw a single explosion directly on top of the enemy’s bridge.

It was a brief orange flash, and then as the armour-piercing shell plunged down through the decks, aided by the
Salamander
’s steep turn, it exploded against one of the magazines.

Two more vivid flashes cut through the drifting spray, and then as some of
Andromeda
’s men jumped up from behind their gun-shields the sky seemed to dim to one tremendous explosion.

Stagg shouted hoarsely, ‘What’s
that,
for Christ’s sake?’

He was streaming blood, and had twice punched a sick-berth attendant who had tried to fix a dressing.

Blake stared, mesmerized, at the pale line beyond the ship which was reeling to more internal destruction which must be
leaping from point to point like one giant fuse.

The line was a bank of rollers, built up into a single, massive force over hundreds of miles of ocean with nothing in its path but the stricken raider.

Blake shouted, ‘The fringe of the storm!’ He tore his eyes from the oncoming mass and shouted down a voice-pipe, ‘Slow ahead together! Wheel amidships!’

He swung round, trying to keep his mind from the fact that he had destroyed Rietz and his ship and deal with the safety of his own.

‘Pilot, have it piped round the ship!’

He stared at Villar’s body below the compass platform, the small red stain just below his heart.

Lieutenant Trevett said, ‘I’ve taken the con, sir.’ He glanced at the dead South African. ‘Reckon I had a good teacher.’

Blake nodded. ‘Warn all hands.’

The unending bank of water seemed to roll against the
Salamander
’s side without any sort of urgency. As if it was almost spent.

Then, as the ship began to turn turtle, the pressure mounted against her bilge keel, thrusting her over and down, and making a lie of the deceptive slowness.

One final explosion blasted the
Salamander
’s hull wide open, and as the sea surged over her shattered plates the side of the wave was lit up from within so that it looked like a solid sheet of bloody glass.

Blake heard the raider breaking up, machinery tearing loose to add to the destruction within the hull. Exploding ammunition and fuel and, as she took the last plunge, the booming roar of her boilers. Then nothing.

Perhaps the fringe of the storm had really spent its fury, or maybe it had done enough even for the ocean’s greed. But as it reached the
Andromeda
’s stem and lifted her effortlessly towards the smoky sunlight it was already passing astern before anyone could really accept that it was over.

Sub-Lieutenant Walker had a telephone in his hand and said huskily, ‘It’s the Chief, sir.’

Blake took it but kept his eyes on his ship, the men around
him and the tattered flag which had remained overhead throughout both actions.

Weir sounded tired. ‘Thought you should know. I can give you more revs now.’ He gave what might have been a chuckle. ‘The old girl was playing me up, nothing worse.’

‘Thank you, Chief.’

Blake handed the telephone to Walker and rejoined Stagg by the broken screen.

‘Fall out action stations. Post extra lookouts in case there are any survivors in the water.’

Stagg was staring at the sea where his old enemy had been just moments earlier.

He said dully, ‘I thought it would mean something.’ He sighed and allowed the Toby Jug to fold a shell-dressing over his torn shoulder. ‘But Rietz was nothing special after all. Just a man.’ He looked at Blake. ‘Like the rest of us.’

He pulled a silver flask from his hip pocket and took a long swallow. Then he wiped it on his sleeve and passed it to Blake.

Blake drank without knowing if it was brandy or champagne. A lot of good men had died, and much had to be done for the ship before they reached safety again.

But he needed this moment. Just for himself. To accept he had survived one more time.

Stagg eyed him thoughtfully. ‘After this I’ll be needing an assistant in Melbourne. How would it suit you?’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I can see it would!’

Blake thought of what he would say when he saw Claire again. What words he could use to tell her how much he needed her.

Stagg watched Moon’s doleful features as he crept nervously on to the bridge with a flask and some sandwiches.

‘Of course, the new commanding officer will take over from you soon, so that’s no real problem.’

‘You already know who it will be, sir?’

Stagg picked up a sandwich. It looked like a postage stamp in his great fist.

‘Fairfax, of course. If he’s still in one piece, that is.’

Blake stared at him. ‘I thought you said . . . .’

Stagg grunted. ‘Never mind what I said. It doesn’t do to tell people too much, y’know.’ He seemed uncomfortable in his new role. ‘You’d better make a signal. Tell the people in Melbourne that we did it.’ He gave a quick grin. ‘Together, eh?’

The Toby Jug had his pencil poised. ‘I’ll tell W/T, sir.’

Blake looked at Villar’s face, screwed up at the moment of impact. He thought of the others he could not see, the disdainful Scovell, a frightened youth named Thorne, the ordinary seaman who was bringing more bandages to the bridge, Digby.

Andromeda
had been made to leave so many behind over the months and years of combat.

And now I am leaving her.

Blake thought of Fairfax and was suddenly glad for him, and for the ship.

He said quietly, ‘Make this signal to the Navy Office, repeated Admiralty.
Two German raiders destroyed. With help from on high, HMS
Andromeda
is returning to harbour
.’

Quintin would see that and show it to Claire. She would know that he was safe.

There were no survivors from the German raiders, and with her own wounded to be considered,
Andromeda
turned slowly and headed towards the eastern horizon. Once again she had the ocean to herself.