In Gray
Tide in the East, I attempted to write a "scientific" alternate history,
which is to say, one which was grounded as much as possible in the actual
history of the period. It was as much a thought experiment in history as it was
a novel, written for the purpose of exploring the consequences of one changed
historical event in a rigorous way, while doing so in as entertainingly as
possible. I wanted to avoid as much as I could wild and wooly speculations, and
stay with what could be reasonably supported by historical research.
Gray Tide is,
as many readers have noted, a short book. The main reason for its brevity is
that I was constrained by the self-imposed rules set forth above. It is an
elementary proposition of alternate history that the further one travels in
time past the changed event (the "point of departure" or "POD," to use
alternate history jargon), the more one is forced to speculate, and the less
one can rely on actual history. (This is known as the "Butterfly Effect" in AH
circles.) The POD for Gray Tide
occurs in 1914, and the book ends in 1916, because I did not wish to stray far
what I believed the historical sources could support. I also thought the book
was fairly complete and reasonably self-contained.
After Gray
Tide was published, however, numerous reviewers assumed that it was only
the first in a planned series, and that there was a sequel in the works. I had
no plans for a sequel, as any such project could not be written with the rigor
of the original, due to the afore-mentioned Butterfly Effect.
In the end, I capitulated to the demands of
my readers, and you are now reading the result. I have tried to apply the
methods of the first book to the current one by using actual historical persons
in the stories, and by doing my best to base the events herein on the
historical record wherever and whenever possible.
On the
other hand, given that this book was not intended to be a counter-factual study
like the preceding book, I was free to create more plot complications and to
explore and develop the characters, in short: to concentrate more on fiction
than history. I can only hope that the readers will find this book satisfactory
as both fiction and history
.
High Tide
Martinique
Washington, D.C., April 12, 1923
Rear Admiral William Sims read the memorandum
again as he waited for the officer he had summoned to arrive at his
office. This, the ninth or possibly
tenth review of the note was quite unnecessary, as Sims had memorized its
contents, but he found that each re-reading stimulated further speculations
about the future, a future which he strongly suspected would bring, in the
words of the old Chinese curse, "interesting times".
The Chief of Naval Intelligence stroked the
neatly trimmed white fringe of beard that decorated his narrow chin as he
considered the implications of the State Department memorandum. Leaving aside the whole issue of the Monroe
Doctrine, he considered it extremely likely that the British would go berserk
if they suspected that Imperial Germany was...
His train of thought was derailed by a buzz
from his intercom. "Lieutenant Commander
Spruance is here, but I don't see his name in the appointment book. Shall I send him away?" the tinny-sounding
voice of his secretary asked as it emerged from the speaker.
Not for the first time, Sims considered
firing his old harridan of a secretary-receptionist. If it were not for the fact that Hilda Davies
was the fastest typist and most efficient shorthand scribe in the Navy
Department, he would have sacked her long before. He thought about reminding Hilda that she had
personally placed Sims' call ordering Spruance to report to his office
immediately, and asking if that did not imply he wanted to see the man right
away, and then he shook his head. Trying
to get such a woman to understand that there were times to vary from routine
was as pointless as attempting to teach a mule the Tennessee Waltz. Both were simply unsuited to the task by
Nature.
Sims was not aware of the low growling noise
he was making as he pushed the intercom button and barked, "No, Miss Davies,
send him in to me."
A moment later the door to the inner office
opened, and Lieutenant Commander Raymond Spruance entered, his hat tucked under
his left arm. He was of unexceptional
appearance, with a medium build and height, dark brown hair and brown
eyes. But there was something about him,
a certain air, that suggested hidden qualities, not the least of which was a
profound intelligence. Sims believed him
to be one of the most promising officers in the entire Navy.
"Have a seat, Ray," Sims said, returning the
other man's salute and motioning him to a chair. "How is the work coming in your
section?" Spruance was assigned to
analyzing new weapons being developed by potential rival navies.
After giving the Admiral's question due
consideration, Spruance answered, "We're not getting either the quality or
quantity of information we need, sir.
For example, I would like to have more hard numbers on the range of the
new Japanese torpedo, instead of rumors.
Also, we still don't know if that new hull the Germans are laying down
is intended to be a battle-cruiser or an aircraft carrier, and..."
Sims nodded.
"You're going to have to turn those problems over to somebody else for a
while. I have a new assignment for you,
if you're interested."
Spruance sat up a little straighter at the
words "new assignment." Ever since he
had begun his tour of duty at Intelligence, he had made no secret of his desire
to return to a shipboard assignment. His
stint as C.O. of two destroyers, first Dale
and later Osborne, had been the high
points of his career so far, and he would have gladly exchanged his desk in
Washington for the bridge of a fighting ship again. He would even have settled for a billet as
the executive officer on a cruiser, or better, on the new aircraft carrier Langley.
"If you're looking for a new ship, Ray, I'm
afraid I'll have to disappoint you," Sims said.
"We need you for intelligence work.
You just told me you aren't satisfied with the information coming in
from our agents; well, neither am I.
Today, I was handed this memorandum under the endorsement of the
Secretary of the Navy, but originated in State." He tapped the sheet that lay before him on
his desk. "The State Department wants to
borrow a naval officer for an investigation."
Spruance raised an eyebrow. The request was unusual, to say the
least. The State Department surely had
its own sources of information, and he had never heard of them asking for help
from Naval Intelligence before.
"It's a small matter, really," Sims
continued. "Secretary of State Wood
wants somebody to take a trip down to Martinique to have a look around. That somebody should be intelligent, discreet,
and a Navy man. Depending on what he
finds, it might just mean war with the German Empire. So, are you interested?"
"War?" repeated the startled Spruance. "Is the situation really that serious, sir?"
Sims' expression was stern. "You tell me," he said. He produced a cardboard tube from which he
slid a map. He unrolled the map on his desk, placing a paperweight on one end
and a stapler on the other to keep it from curling back up.
"Our consul down in Wilhelmshaven... that's the
capital of Martinique - used to be called Fort-de-France before the Germans
took over ... heard some scuttlebutt about a big new port facility being built at
a little town called La Trinitie across the island from the capital." Sims jabbed the map with a finger to indicate
the locations of the various places named.
"Now, the main harbor at Wilhelmshaven handles all the blue-water
traffic for the island with ease. In
fact, it has a lot more capacity than Martinique needs, because the French
built it up a few years before the war with the idea of making it the major
trans-shipment port for their Caribbean trade.
So what reason would anybody have to develop another deep water port on
Martinique, when the one already there can handle twice as much shipping as it
actually gets?"
Spruance considered the question, his eyes
narrowing slightly. "Well, it doesn't
sound like a commercial proposition, anyway," he said.
"That's what our man thought, too," Sims
agreed. "He made a few inquiries, and
confirmed that there is a big construction project underway at La
Trinitie. When he asked the German
commercial attaché about it, he was told it was a project of the
Hamburg-America Line, who building a modern base for e new Caribbean routes
they were developing. Oddly enough,
neither the commercial attaché nor Hamburg-America could provide any
details. The consul... his name is Welles,
by the way... wasn't satisfied with this explanation, so he went over to La
Trinitie to see what was going on for himself.
The new facility is being built directly across the bay from the old
town on the Caravelle Peninsula. Interestingly enough, the Germans had put up
fences obstructing the view from land, and even put some on rafts to keep it
from being seen from the water."
"It sounds as if Hamburg-America is nervous
about what they're building back there, or something," Spruance commented.
"Or something," Sims agreed grimly. "The gate guarded by a squad of armed men. Welles went over there, identified himself,
and asked to be allowed to look around in his official capacity as the American
consul."
"Let me guess: they declined to give him the
nickel tour," Spruance said.
"Within ten minutes a very excited flunky
appeared at the gate to tell Welles that it was completely out of the question,
because the company was not allowing any unauthorized persons inside until the
facility was ready to open. Our consul
was told in no uncertain terms not to come back, and furthermore, if he was
found prying around the site again, the colonial Governor would ask the State
Department for his recall," Sims said.
"Now, what do you make of that?"
"It seems like a strange way for a commercial
shipping line to treat an official representative of the United States
government," Spruance replied slowly. "What
sort of top secret facility would Hamburg-American be likely to have, anyway?
Now, if the new port facility is not really a Hamburg-America venture at all,
but is actually being developed by a government..."
"The German government, let's just say..." Sims
interjected.
Spruance nodded his head and continued, "...and
that government wanted to keep the facility a secret until it was completed
before officially announcing it, so as to present a fait accompli to..."
"To the United States, for example..." Sims put
in.
"...then, I suppose there might some sense in
keeping the new facility under wraps," Spruance finished. "But what could the Germans be building
behind those all fences that they would need to keep secret, except..." He trailed off.
"Yeah," Sims said. "What other than a brand new base in the
Western Hemisphere for the High Seas Fleet?" Sims asked. "And if that is what they're doing down in
Martinique, we could be at war with Germany before the leaves fall."