Why was it running hot? Because of the lazy incompetence of an oiler, that was why. It took all Semmes’s strength of will not to curse the captain out for his crew’s slackness; this would avail nothing.

“How long will repairs take?”

He could see a consultation on deck, then the other man raised his megaphone again. “Two, mebbe three hours.”

“Get on with it then.”

Captain Semmes hurled the megaphone down on the deck, cursing like a trooper. The helmsman and the signalman exchanged wary nods of agreement behind the captain’s back. They all felt as he did — nothing but contempt for the merchantmen they convoyed. Better a swift passage — or even a battle at sea; anything but this.

Semmes was in a quandary. Should he take his other four charges into port and leave the miserable Dixie Belle to her fate? It was very tempting. The thought of her being snapped up by a British man-of-war was indeed attractive. But that was not his role. His assignment was to protect them all. But if the other ships stopped to wait for the errant vessel, there would be endless complaints over lost time at sea, late arrival at port, possibly an investigation.

Yet he had no other recourse. As they caught up with his charges again, he spoke to the signalman.

“Send the signal to heave to.”

Of course it did not happen at once. There were some angry queries; others completely ignored him. He sent the signal again, then swept down on them at full speed, cutting under their bows; that got their attention. One of them still hadn’t stopped, the Biloxi; her captain was the most recalcitrant of the lot. Virginia went in pursuit, the whistle screeching. Semmes had only a quick glimpse back at the Dixie Belle, now some miles away.

The captain of the Biloxi did not want to heave to and was eager to go on by himself. Semmes, who quickly tired of the shouted exchange between their ships, sent an order to the bow turret to put an explosive shell into the sea ahead of the cotton ship. As always, this worked wonders and he saw her sails flap loosely as she went about.

“Captain,” the lookout called down. “Smoke on the horizon, off the port bow.”

“Damnation!” Semmes swore, raising his glasses. Yes, there it was, moving in the direction of the stranded Dixie Belle. “Full ahead,” he ordered as they started back toward the stopped ship.

The two steamships were on closing courses and rapidly approaching each other, their towering plumes of smoke marking their speed. The other was hull up now, a black hull — and yes, those were gun turrets. British surely, no warship of any other country would be prowling about out here.

It was a closely run thing. Virginia curved between Dixie Belle and the other ship, stopped engines.

“She’s flying the white ensign, sir,” the lookout called down.

“She is indeed,” Semmes said, smiling happily. Ships at sea, antagonists at sea. This was the life he relished — that he really enjoyed. During the war, when he had carried cotton from the South to England, he was happy for every moment of every voyage. He had been much pursued when running the blockade with cotton cargoes but never caught.

“Now let us see what you are going to do, my fine English friend. This is not another chance to bully an unarmed merchantman. You are up against the pride of the American navy. Go ahead. Get off a shell. Give me some excuse to blast you out of the water.”

The turrets on the other warship were turning his way. Semmes was still smiling. But it was the cold grimace of a man ready for anything.

North of the antagonistic ironclads, close to where the river Mersey joined the Irish Sea, a confrontation of a totally different kind was taking place. This was no battle of the giants, but it might appear to an onlooker that the smaller ship was attacking the larger. Aurora came around the bend in the river with her engine turning at top revolutions. The sweating, soot-smeared stokers sent shovelful after shovelful of coal into the furnace. Lieutenant Simenov in the engine room looked at the pressure gauge — then quickly away. It was moving steadily toward the red; he had never had the pressure this high before. Yet the Count had asked for maximum speed — and that is what he would get.

On the bridge Korzhenevski was just as cool as a naval officer should be. “Look,” he said. “Her bow is still pointing upstream. She will have to turn to follow us.”

“If we get by her,” Sherman said grimly. “Won’t her guns bear on us as we go past?”

“They will if I make a mistake,” the Count said. Then he spoke into the communication tube to the engine room in Russian. “Half speed,” he said.

Sherman’s eyes widened at this, but he said nothing. He depended on the Russian’s professionalism now. Korzhenevski took a quick glance at him and smiled.

“I’m not mad, General, not quite yet. I’m watching her bows, waiting for them to turn — yes, there they go. Hold the speed. She’s turning to starboard, so we’ll pass her on that flank.” He snapped a command in Russian to the helmsman. “We’ll stay as close to her bow as we can. That way she won’t be able to depress her forward guns to reach us — and the rest of them will not bear until we are past.”

It was a difficult maneuver, and had to be conducted with extreme precision. Too slow, or too fast, and the guns would be able to fire on them.

“Now — full speed!”

HMS Defender’s, length was almost the same as the width of the river at this point. Her bow was in danger of striking the bank. Aurora had to get through the rapidly closing gap. The foam roiled from Defender’s propeller as she went hard astern. The Count laughed happily.

“Her captain is not thinking fast enough for this emergency. He should have let her touch the bank, plugged up our escape hole. If he had done that, his ship would suffer no grave injury — but we certainly would if we had hit her ironclad bow — there! — we are through. Top speed now.”

The little yacht surged downstream. The British battleship was now almost halted across the river. She was starting to turn again, but very slowly. Aurora hurtled on — and into sight of the warship’s guns.

One after another, as they came to bear, they fired. Columns of water rose up before her and well beyond her.

Tags: Harry Harrison Stars and Stripes Science Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net