With a satisfied nod, I lowered today's New York Times.
"Your honor is restored, Rear Admiral McVay," I said, handing the newspaper to a burly man of about fifty-three.
He picked it up, his gaze scanning the article revealing the true causes of the sinking of the heavy cruiser Indianapolis on July 30, 1945. I'd helped the journalist unravel the intricacies of the facts by providing classified information that shed light on the events. For example, the information that three listening posts had picked up the Indianapolis's distress signal but had chosen to ignore it. It's worth explaining: this heavy cruiser had delivered an atomic bomb to an air base and then, due to the stupidity of its command, was hit by two torpedoes from a Japanese submarine. The blame lay with the entire command staff, but Captain Charles McVay III was declared guilty. To make matters worse, of the more than eight hundred crew members who survived, half were eaten by sharks three days later. Literally. They were torn to pieces by sharks. The captain was made the scapegoat, as neither intelligence, which had known about the submarines' approach to the designated area but remained silent, nor the command, which had failed to assign the ship a destroyer escort, were willing to part with their epaulets. Ultimately, the surviving captain was the one who fell victim to the system's attack. Admiral Nimitz saved him from a court martial. For me, he was the epitome of the ideal man—a man disgraced by his own country, yet possessing extensive connections and experience. So I offered him command of my space fleet, and in exchange, he asked me to clear his name. And so, his name has been cleared.
"Of course, it will take some time to reinvestigate, but the media has enormous influence," McVeigh noted.
"Did they really know about the submarines and hear our screams?" the sailor asked, looking at me.
"Yes, I had to breathe a bit of archive dust, but yes, they knew. And they didn't tell anyone, for fear of the codes being broken, so they chose to remain silent. From my perspective, this smacks of nonsense. I suspect some kind of internal intrigue. After all, the Luftwaffe once bombed a German destroyer—Göring's way of demonstrating his authority over Raeder. Perhaps something similar happened here."
If you tell a person a thousand times that they're guilty of something, they'll believe it. In the original story, Charles McVay III shot himself in 1968 because the relatives of the dead sailors continued to blame him, even though they were always blaring, "He didn't perform an anti-submarine maneuver." That's the way narrow-minded people think. The Indianapolis was a heavy cruiser that was not assigned an escort, depriving it of any means of detecting underwater targets. Even the commander of the submarine that torpedoed the ship admitted that no maneuver could have saved the ship. However, people didn't want to delve into the matter; they were given someone to blame, and they were ready to tear him apart.
"I am immensely grateful for your actions," the American nodded.
"Settle your affairs and begin familiarizing yourself with the starships. You have a huge amount of work ahead of you. Considering you are neither Jaffa nor Goa'uld, you will need to perform some manipulations to ensure the crews obey you. A thin cylinder with a symbiote inside will be placed on your back – this will allow the Jaffa to perceive you as a Goa'uld. Also, my race usually speaks in a low voice called the 'divine voice' – this can also be achieved. But the most important thing is a flawless knowledge of Goa'uldish. Learn this language. Later, we will begin practicing, and when the results are satisfactory, you will ascend to the bridge of the Hat'tak as the acting commander of my fleet. Until then, I will give you the Hat'tak schematics, which you can study and make adjustments. Because there is a HUGE amount of adjustment required."
"Aren't you afraid that I will pass this on to my state?"
"Your government, after the crash of the Asgard rescue ship, created the Information Agency to handle data on extraterrestrial life. They know, they'll learn a little more. I'll lose the admiral—that will be sad. But are you sure it will be of any use? Your world has enormous potential, but is knowledge about the Empires of the Old Gods truly necessary? A terrible war in your history has just ended; do you really want another mass hysteria?"
"No, I don't want to."
"That makes sense."
One might ask how wise it is to entrust such a position to what is essentially a mercenary? Absolutely not. Therefore, there will be controls over him. However, he is an experienced naval officer, who has undergone extensive training, participated in battles, and possesses administrative experience. Jaffa have absolutely none of that. Or do you think they gave me Jaffa who served on ships? Such men are valuable even in old age and are certainly not for sale.
"I eagerly await many of your recommendations, but I must warn you that I will not be able to fully manage the fleet. That will be the responsibility of you and your staff. After all, the Goa'uld favor the principle of whoever brings the most ships to the fleet in naval tactics. Of course, tactics exist, but they are quite primitive. Naturally, in exchange for your work, you and your family will enjoy excellent health, as well as opportunities for advancement in the Tetrarchy. But your name does not correspond to the usual Goa'uld ones. Ahmontekh, I believe, will be your new name. I am of the Ra Dynasty, and we prefer to follow our own naming structure, which you would consider "Egyptian."
Besides visiting Earth, I also studied Sam's reports about Seth. So far, everything had been quiet, but I wasn't despairing. Isara was also with me today, trying to speak with one of the Egeria carrier candidates.