Kakuta felt it settle with a slight thump on the deck, and immediately the frightful sound tapered off to a dull roar and an odd, mushy, thudding. He thought he heard a high-pitched whine and the sounds of hydraulic equipment. The shouts and curses of the Ryujo’s crew were blessedly familiar, even if they betrayed astonishment and distress. When the admiral felt it was safe to straighten up, he turned to face the thing squarely. There were two men in the . . .

Cockpit?

He assumed it had to be.

A man in an oversized white helmet, his face obscured by a dark lens, occupied one berth. Ensign Tomonagi sat beside him. The junior officer scrambled out quickly as the massive propeller . . .

Yes, most certainly a propeller!

. . . ceased its rotation altogether. The ensign was shaking, no doubt with excitement and more than a little fright, at having been strapped into a plane without wings.

Kakuta had been enraged that a simple recon task had put them hours behind schedule, but his fury was crimped off by the appearance of the craft. Something very unusual had happened out there.

“Ensign. Explain this!” he barked at Tomonagi.

“I cannot, sir,” the ensign replied. “Commander Hidaka has all the information. He sent me to assure you that your presence on the captured destroyer is vital.”

“But what is this thing? And who is that pilot?” Kakuta demanded.

“It is called a helicopter,” Tomonagi said, having some trouble pronouncing the word. “And the pilot is a Flight Lieutenant Hardoyo. He will take you back to the Sutanto.”

Kakuta examined the machine with a very wary eye. The fog and darkness gave its queer lines a sinister appearance. Dozens of men were gathered around it, though at a safe distance, their breath pluming in front of them as they swapped wild theories about its origin. The pilot waved to one or two, who pointed at him.

“Lieutenant Commander Hidaka is juggling with hot coals,” said Kakuta. “He should be back here reporting to me, so we can continue toward Dutch Harbor with all speed. The operation has no margin for delays like this.”

Tomonagi drew a breath. He was shivering visibly. “Commander Hidaka says you will not believe his report unless you are there to see with your own eyes what he has found. He asked me to tell you that he does not believe the attack on Dutch Harbor, or even on Midway, will proceed once you have had the chance to inspect the vessel yourself.”

Kakuta’s anger, subdued by the arrival of the “helicopter,” was bubbling over again.

“And you, Ensign? What do you believe to be our correct course of action? To follow Admiral Yamamoto’s direction, or that of Lieutenant Commander Hidaka?”

Tomonagi didn’t answer immediately. Despite the lethal cold on the exposed flight deck, a single trickle of sweat still ran down his face.