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it is in the best interests of the Empire.”
    “Of course we shall be friends!” Rebecca insisted. “We already are. Mr. Flynn and his submersible-boat sailors rescued us from the sea and shared all they had.”
    Jenks looked at her, even more incredulous. What had she said? Clearly, there was still far more to the princess’s story.
    Rebecca turned to Matt. “And our ships might make more difference than you think, Captain Reddy,” she protested. “There are several hundred armed Marines between them as well.”
    “Armed with muskets, and with no experience fighting the Grik,” Matt mused aloud. He knew the girl had seen their own weapons, but wondered if she truly appreciated the qualitative difference. As an historian, he wasn’t sure muskets were much of an advantage over Grik arrows, either. They were probably more lethal and there might be a psychological effect, but arrows reloaded faster.
    “Perhaps I might offer a compromise,” Courtney Bradford said, speaking for the first time.
    “Excuse me,” Matt interrupted, risking embarrassing Jenks still further, but it was also possible they needed a brief pause to defuse the mounting tension. “May I present . . . the honorable Courtney Bradford, esquire.” Silva barely contained a snort. “He’s Minister of Science for the Allied powers. He also has broad diplomatic experience and influence.” He shrugged. “And I may as well present the others here. Chief Gray I think you know?” Jenks nodded and worked his jaw. Matt continued. “I understand Mr. Gray’s status may have been unclear during your previous meeting. We apparently share some of the same rank designations, and ‘chief bosun’s mate’ doesn’t reflect the extent of his responsibilities. He’s also my chief, personal armsman, and commands the Captain’s Guard. He’s not a commissioned officer, but he’s the highest-ranking noncommissioned officer in the Alliance. He has commanded detachments including commissioned officers, and in those situations he acts as my direct personal representative.”
    He waited with some satisfaction while Jenks digested that. “Beside me is Keje-Fris-Ar. Admiral Keje-Fris-Ar. In addition to being High Chief of Salissa Home and a head of state in his own right, he’s assistant chief of naval operations and answers only to me in military matters. His people are not ‘Ape Folk.’ They call themselves Mi-Anaaka, but our term, ‘Lemurians,’ doesn’t offend them. They were once peaceful, unwarlike people. That’s probably how your histories remember them. They’ve since become some of the best warriors in the world. I wouldn’t call them Ape Folk if I were you, because that does offend them. I honestly don’t know why, since they’ve never seen an ape, but there it is.” Matt suddenly wondered if Jenks had ever seen an ape. Later . He started to introduce the other members of his party, but they weren’t officers. Besides, then he’d have to name Silva, and how would he describe him? The most depraved, dangerous human on the planet? He stifled a chuckle.
    Jenks—somewhat reluctantly, it seemed—introduced his officers then. None smiled or offered his hand and most appeared to regard the entire party, the Lemurians in particular, with disdain. Matt dismissed them all as junior copies of Jenks—except the one who’d spoken up. His name was Billingsly, and judging from Rebecca’s distasteful glance, he decided to remember him.
    “Now, Mr. Bradford, I apologize for the interruption. Please continue.”
    “My dear,” Bradford continued, addressing Rebecca, “you once said when the time came for you to return home, you wanted us, Captain Reddy in particular, to take you. Do you still mean that?”
    “Of course.”
    “Very well. Then I propose that Captain Reddy and other dignitaries escort you home as soon as either Walker is . . . repaired . . . or other suitable ships are ready to take you.” Bradford realized Jenks knew about Walker ,