B00BPJL400 EBOK Read Online Free PDF Page A

such was clearly unfolding now . . . but pinning all their hopes on Isak Rueben seemed a little nuts.
    The first pitch blew past Isak and he just watched it go, as if studying it. He did the same for the second, and another huge groan rumbled in the park. The third pitch was way inside and probably would’ve shattered Isak’s bony elbow if he hadn’t jerked back.
Okay,
Matt thought,
Isak can read a pitch
.
But they can’t be counting on a walk—not with this pitcher!
The fourth pitch came, and with a fluid, almost nonchalant ease, Isak Rueben slammed it high in the air and deep into the crowd behind the center-field line.
    Matt looked at Gray, stunned, as the whole city of Maa-ni-la seemed to erupt. Gray shrugged. “I seen the squirt bat before,” he shouted. “Back on Tarakan, after the fight with those three Grik ships. He was showin’ some of the ’Cat Marines.” He grinned. “I ain’t sure Isak Rueben didn’t
invent
baseball on this world!”
    * * *
    “A great victory!” Saan-Kakja gushed as their palka-drawn carriage and its me-naak-mounted guards churned through the busy streets toward the new industrial complex east of the city. There were seven in the carriage, counting the driver. Matt, Sandra, and Gray sat beside each other, facing Saan-Kakja, General Busaa of the coastal artillery, who now commanded the ATC, and the somewhat sullen Meksnaak. The driver, busy controlling his animal, said nothing.
    Palkas, dubbed “pack mooses,” looked like a cross between an overblown moose and a Belgian draft horse. They weren’t fast, but they were strong and fairly steady under fire—much steadier than brontasarries. That made them perfect for pulling artillery, caissons, and virtually any combat-supply vehicle. They’d also eat just about any kind of vegetation. Me-naaks, or “meanies,” were the preferred Maa-ni-lo cavalry mount, and looked like long-legged crocodiles. A thick thoracic case made them almost bulletproof. They were obedient, even devoted to their riders, but dangerously prone to snatch “snacks” as they trotted along, so their jaws were kept firmly secured.
    “I don’t know about that . . .” Sandra began.
    “Of course it was!” Saan-Kakja insisted. “It showed our people that
Waa-kur
’s crew remains undaunted despite her injuries and losses. I cannot stress the importance of that enough! Also, it may perhaps boost the morale of your crew, Cap-i-taan Reddy, after the . . . inconclusive encounter with
Hidoiame
?”
    “Didn’t seem inconclusive to me,” Gray grumbled. “And Spanky’s sure the damn thing’s done for.”
    “Still,” Matt said. “We never
saw
her sink, and I know it nags the fellas. It nags me too.” He raised a hand at all of them, particularly Sandra. “Hey! I’m not complaining. Spanky made the right call!” He nodded down at the wound that nearly killed him. “I was out of it. Hell,
Walker
was finished! We were like an old, beat-up mutt tangling with a mountain lion, but I’m still as confident as Spanky that we kicked
Hidoiame
’s ass. Even if we only gave as good as we got”—he nodded at Saan-Kakja—“we had someplace to run, to lick our wounds.
Hidoiame
and her murdering crew have
no place
to go that they could hope to reach, even if they somehow knew about the Japs helping the Grik.” He shook his head. “Scouts haven’t seen her, and we haven’t overheard any transmissions. My bet is she’s sunk or on an island beach somewhere, shot up and out of fuel, and her crew’s busy cracking open those poison coconut things and slowly . . .” he stopped.
    “Slowly shittin’ theirselves to death,” Gray finished with obvious satisfaction, “if you ladies’ll excuse me.”
    The driver halted the palka in front of one of the largest wooden structures Matt had ever seen on land. It looked like a hangar for one of the old Navy’s dirigibles. Even Grik zeppelins wouldn’t need anything as big, since they were less than half