Red Tide, стр. 86

Chao had a tendency to like all of Lau’s ideas, especially those that could help him make full admiral.

Ko saw Chao as a version of Abraham Maslow’s man with a hammer, meaning a person to whom everything looks like a nail. And the Sea Dragon was that nail.

And so the order came down. “Take the Sea Dragon, attack Bangkok, and use information supplied by MSS to kill Rama XI.”

It was a stupid plan. Because in order to reach the Gulf of Thailand and launch missiles, the Sea Dragon would have to round the Cambodian coast, and pass through the part of the South China Sea dominated by the Allies. All of whom were searching for Ko’s ship.

That’s where the storm came in. According to the government meteorologists a tropical storm was brewing. And not just any tropical storm, but one that might produce cyclones. A fact that would send most, if not all, of the Alliance surface ships scurrying for a safe port. Meanwhile, thanks to her low center of gravity and submarine-like design, the Sea Dragon would slip through unnoticed.

That was the plan. And, after Ko made his way up into Conning Tower 1, there was every indication that the storm had arrived. The light was starting to fade, the wind was blowing the tops off waves, and cold spume was flying through the air.

In spite of her enormous size, the semi-submersible was pitching forward and back, as if bowing to Goddess Tianfei who would protect them. And that was just as well, since no one else could.

***

The sour stench of vomit hung in the air as Lieutenant Jev Jing was thrown sideways into a steel hatch. Then the Sea Dragon dipped into the trough between a couple of waves, causing unsecured equipment and litter to cascade down the main passageway. Jing battled to keep his footing and barely managed to do so. He was on his way to the Operations Compartment where he was scheduled to relieve the communications officer on duty.

The shit show on Tonaki Island seemed like ancient history at that point. After killing Lieutenant Ma, who’d been intent on murdering a Japanese family, Jing had assumed he would be punished. But, when the time came for Jing to face a disciplinary panel—consisting of Captain Ko, Chief Engineer Hong, and a marine captain named Ho—he was surprised by the way it turned out. After telling the story of how the landing went, and how the sound of gunfire summoned him to the village, he discovered that one of Ma’s men had been beheaded with a samurai sword.

The murderer was already dead at that point, and Ma was inside a house, preparing to slaughter the killer’s family, when Jing entered. “I shot Lieutenant Ma,” Jing confessed. “The murderer was dead. And I feared that killing his family would trigger a general uprising. And, well, killing civilians is wrong.”

The last argument was the weakest. That’s the way many military men would see it. But it was true. And, fortunately for Jing, the panel agreed. No charges were filed.

In the report submitted to higher authorities Ma was listed as having been killed in action. That being a simple way to paper everything over, and avoid needless pain for Ma’s family.

As a result, Jing’s status had risen. “How about Jing?” he overheard a sailor say. “He killed an officer and got away with it!”

Jing managed to grab a railing as the ship heaved, made use of it to drag himself along, and stumbled into the com compartment. A chair offered a welcome landing spot. A tech was barfing into a waste basket. The watch had begun.

***

It was completely dark and a 34-knot wind was blowing from the south. The Sea Dragon was pitching, but thanks to the fact that most of her hull was partially submerged, the wind didn’t have much superstructure to push against. Visibility was zero. And everything of importance could be seen on radar. So, Ko sent his sailors below, and followed them down.

The main threat, other than the storm, were enemy submarines. Weather conditions were meaningless to them. But with an attack sub scouting the way for the Sea Dragon, it was very unlikely that the cruiser would be subject to a surprise attack.

The second most important threat was psychological. And had to do with morale which, in Ko’s opinion, was too good. A strange situation to be sure. But real nevertheless.

Ko put out a request for his department heads to gather in the wardroom. The officers who met there represented the deck, operations, weapons, engineering, communications, medical and intelligence departments. Only two of them were visibly seasick.

Once the officers were seated, a sailor served tea, and placed dishes of peanuts on the table. Ko knew the sailor was listening. And would share what he heard with shipmates, who would tell their friends, and so forth. An informal process that would help to spread Ko’s message.

“There is,” Ko told them from his position at the end of the table, “a proverb about pride: ‘Modesty benefits, arrogance hurts—and the modest receive benefit, while the conceited reap failure.’ And we, my friends, are both overconfident and conceited.”

Most of the officers at the table saw Ko as brilliant but eccentric. The altar to Tianfei being an obvious example of that. And here was yet another one of Captain Ko’s quirks.

After three amazing victories, with only a few casualties, the Sea Dragon was a powerful emblem of China’s martial prowess and limitless future. That was a good thing.

It was, nevertheless, necessary to maintain a Wu biaoqing de lian (expressionless face). Most of the department heads were thinking about sex, money, or power as Ko delivered a ten-minute sermon on the merits of humility. Ko closed with a quote from Confucius: “Humility is the solid foundation of all virtues.”

Once dismissed the officers hurried away. The single exception was Chief Engineer Hong. He stood. “They hear, but don’t understand.”

“That’s true,” Ko agreed. “But it was necessary to try.