“The Siranui,” he replied in as level a fashion as he could, “suffered a direct hit on her bridge. The captain and many of his senior officers were killed there, while they lay unconscious, suffering from the effects of the trip here. The cruiser is now under the command of Sub-Lieutenant Maseo Miyazaki, and he has slaved her combat functions to the . . . computing machine that helps run the Clinton. That is to say, the Siranui is under American control. They can’t warm up a coffeepot without my say-so. I didn’t ask them to do that. Lieutenant Miyazaki suggested it, and I agreed, in the interests of reducing tensions between our two forces.”

Spruance’s thin, haunted face grew even darker while Kolhammer delivered his speech. When he had finished, the hero of Midway stared at him intently. Indeed, Kolhammer had the distinctly unpleasant feeling that Spruance was staring into him, decoding him, reading his deepest, pass-protected files and weighing up whether to hold or fold. His jawline flexed as he glowered fixedly and angrily at the invaders who freely admitted to having brought so much ruin with them.

And then, as if a switch had been thrown, much of the tension ran out of his posture. His whole frame, which had been so taut the whole time, sagged fractionally.

“Right,” he grunted. “Commander Black, you and the ensign will return to the . . . uh, Hillary Clinton. Report back with all dispatch if you think we can gain anything from the assistance offered by these people. But before you go, Commander, a word in private if you please?”

Black and Spruance walked away from Kolhammer’s group until they were far enough removed that they could no longer be heard. Spruance turned his back on the two men and their odd female companion. He and Black were both facing out over the bow of the Enterprise, which methodically rose and sank on the long ocean swell. It was cold, and they were dressed lightly. They shivered as hundreds of pairs of eyes bored into their backs.

“You’ll need a signal. In case you’re coerced,” Spruance said. “Something simple that they won’t notice.”

“Well, my sainted mother raised me never to cuss at an admiral, sir. Not even a lousy rear admiral from the Cruiser Division. I could slip in a fucking profanity, begging your pardon, sir. That’s not like me at all. Then you’d know we were in trouble.”

“Fine,” Spruance said, smiling weakly despite himself. “That youngster you’re taking with you. Keep a close eye on him. His mother would probably like to see him again, too.”

“I’ll do my best, sir. It was his idea by the way. It’s more like Ensign Curtis is taking me. If this comes off, that should be acknowledged. Otherwise, well, I’ll take responsibility.”

“Duly noted.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Do you believe any of this malarkey?”