Bean started to roll himself up the incline.
Suriyawong grabbed him by the boot. Bean looked at him. Suriyawong pantomimed rubbing his cheeks, his forehead, his ears.
Bean had forgotten. His Greek skin was lighter than Suriyawong's. He would catch more light.
He rubbed his face, his ears, his hands with damp soil from under the grass. Suriyawong nodded.
They rolled--at a deliberate pace--up out of the ditch and wriggled slowly along the base of the building until they were around the corner. Here there were bushes to offer some shelter. They stood in the shadows for a moment, then walked, casually, away from the building as if they had just emerged from the door. Bean hoped not to be visible to anyone watching Suriyawong's building, but even if they could be seen, they shouldn't attract any attention, as long as no one noticed that they seemed to be just a little undersized.
Not until they were a quarter mile away did Suriyawong finally speak. "Do you mind telling me the name of this game?"
"Staying alive," said Bean.
"I never knew paranoid schizophrenia could strike so fast."
"They've tried twice," said Bean. "And they had no qualms about killing my family along with me."
"But we were just talking," said Suriyawong. "What did you see?"
"Nothing."
"Or hear?"
"Nothing," said Bean. "I had a feeling."
"Please don't tell me that you're a psychic."
"No, I'm not. But something about the events of the past few hours must have made some unconscious connection. I listen to my fears. I act on them."
"And this works?"
"I'm still alive," said Bean. "I need a public computer. Can we get off the base?"
"It depends on how all-pervasive this plot against you is," said Suriyawong. "You need a bath, by the way."
"What about some place with ordinary public computer access?"
"Sure, there are visitor facilities near the tram station entrance. But would it be ironic if your assassins were using it?"
"My assassins aren't visitors," said Bean.
This bothered Suriyawong. "You don't even know if anybody's really out to kill you, but you're sure it's somebody in the Thai Army?"
"It's Achilles," said Bean. "And Achilles isn't in Russia. India doesn't have any intelligence service that could carry out an operation like this inside the high command. So it has to be somebody that Achilles has corrupted."
"Nobody here is in the pay of India," said Suriyawong.
"Probably not," said Bean. "But India isn't the only place Achilles has friends by now. He was in Russia for a while. He has to have made other connections."
"It's so hard to take this seriously, Bean," said Suriyawong. "If you suddenly start laughing and say Gotcha that time, I will kill you."
"I might be wrong," said Bean, "but I'm not joking."
They got to the visitor facility and found no one using any of the computers. Bean logged on using one of his many false identities and wrote a message to Graff and Sister Carlotta.
You know who this is. I believe an attempt is about to be made on my life. Would you send immediate messages to contacts within the Thai government, warning them that such an attempt is coming and tell them that it involves conspirators inside the Chakri's inner circle. No one else could have the access. And I believe the Chakri had prior knowledge. Any Indians supposedly involved are fall guys.
"You can't write that," said Suriyawong. "You have no evidence to accuse Naresuan. I'm annoyed with him, but he's a loyal Thai."
"He's a loyal Thai," said Bean, "but you can be loyal and still want me dead."
"But not me," said Suriyawong.
"If you want it to look like the evil action of outsiders," said Bean, "then a brave Thai has to die along with me. What if they make our deaths look as if an Indian strike force did it? That would be provocation for a declaration of war, wouldn't it?"
"The Chakri doesn't need a provocation."
"He does if he wants the Burmese to believe that Thailand isn't just grabbing for a piece of Burma." Bean went back to his note.
Please tell them that Suriyawong and I are alive. We will come out of hiding when we see Sister Carlotta with at least one high government official who Suriyawong would recognize on sight. Please act immediately. If I am wrong, you will be embarrassed. If I am right, you will have saved my life.
"I'm sick to my stomach thinking of how humiliated I'm going to be. Who are these people you're writing to?"
"People I trust. Like you."
Then, before sending the message, he added Peter's "Locke" address to the destination box.
"You know Ender Wiggin's brother?" asked Suriyawong.
"We've met."
Bean logged off.
"What now?" asked Suriyawong.
"We hide somewhere, I guess," said Bean.
Then they heard an explosion. Windows rattled. The floor trembled. The power flickered. The computers began to reboot.
"Got that done just in time," said Bean.
"Was that it?" asked Suriyawong.
"E," said Bean. "I think we're dead."
"Where do we hide?"
"If they did the deed, it's because they think we were still in there. So they won't be watching for us now. We can go to my barracks. My men will hide me."
"You're willing to bet my life on that?" asked Suriyawong.
"Yes," said Bean. "My track record of keeping you alive is pretty good so far."
As they walked out of the building, they saw military vehicles rushing toward where gray smoke was billowing up into the moonlit night. Others were heading for the entrances to the base. No one would be getting in or out.
By the time they reached the barracks where Bean's strike force was quartered, they could hear bursts of gunfire. "Now they're killing all the fake Indian spies this will be blamed on," said Bean. "The Chakri will regretfully inform the government that they all resisted capture and none were taken alive."
"Again you accuse him," said Suriyawong. "Why? How did you know this would happen?"
"I think I knew because there were too many smart people acting stupidly," said Bean. "Achilles and the Chakri. And he treated us angrily. Why? Because killing us bothered him. So he had to convince himself that we were disloyal children who had been corrupted by the I.F. We were a danger to Thailand. Once he hated us and feared us, killing us was justified."
"That's a long stretch from there to knowing they were about to kill us."
"They were probably set to do it at my quarters. But I stayed with you. It was quite possible they were planning for another opportunity--the Chakri would summon us to meet him somewhere, and we'd be killed instead. But when we stayed for hours and hours in your quarters, they realized this was the perfect opportunity. They had to check with the Chakri and get his consent to do it ahead of schedule. They probably had to rush to get the Indian stooges into place--they might even be genuine captured spies. Or they might be drugged Thai criminals who will have incriminating documents found on them."
"I don't care who they are," said Suriyawong. "I still don't understand how you knew."
"Neither do I," said Bean. "Most of the time, I analyze things very quickly and understand exactly why I know what I know. But sometimes my unconscious mind runs ahead of my conscious mind. It happened that way in the last battle, with Ender. We were doomed to defeat. I couldn't see a solution. And yet I said something, an ironic statement, a bitter joke--and it contained within it exactly the solution Ender needed. From then on, I've been trying to heed those unconscious processes that give me answers. I've thought back over my life and seen other times when I said things that were not really justified by my conscious analysis. Like the time when we stood over Achilles as he lay on the ground, and I told Poke to kill him. She wouldn't do it, and I couldn't persuade her, because I truly didn't understand why. Yet I understood what he was. I knew he had to die, or he would kill her."
"You know what I
think?" said Suriyawong. "I think you heard something outside. Or noticed something subliminally on the way in. Somebody watching. And that's what triggered you."
Bean could only shrug. "You may well be right. As I said, I don't know."
It was after hours, but Bean could still palm his way through the locks to get in without setting off alarms. They hadn't bothered to deauthorize him. His entry into the building would show up on a computer somewhere, but it was a drone program and by the time any human looked at it, Bean's friends should have things well in motion.
Bean was glad to see that even though his men were in their home barracks on the grounds of the Thai high command base, they had not slacked in their discipline. No sooner were they inside the door than both Bean and Suriyawong were seized and pressed against the wall while they were checked for weapons.
"Good work," said Bean.
"Sir!" said the surprised soldier.
"And Suriyawong," said Bean.
"Sir!" said both the sentries.
A few others had been wakened by the scuffle.
"No lights," Bean said quickly. "And no loud talking. Weapons loaded. Prepare to move out on a moment's notice."
"Move out?" said Suriyawong.
"If they realize we're in here and decide to finish the job," said Bean, "this place is indefensible."
While some soldiers quietly woke the sleepers and all were busy dressing and loading their weapons, Bean had one of the sentries lead them to a computer. "You sign on," he said to the soldier.
As soon as he had logged on, Bean took his place and wrote, using the soldier's identity, to Graff, Carlotta, and Peter.
Both packages safe and awaiting pickup. Please come right away before packages are returned to sender.
Bean sent out one toon, divided into four pairs, to reconnoiter. When each pair returned another pair from another toon replaced them. Bean wanted to have enough warning to get these men out of the barracks before any kind of assault could be mounted.
In the meanwhile, they turned on a vid and watched the news. Sure enough, here came the first report. Indian agents had apparently penetrated the Thai command base and blown up a temporary building, killing Suriyawong, Thailand's most distinguished Battle School graduate, who had headed military doctrine and strategic planning for the past year and a half, since returning from space. It was a great national tragedy. There was no confirmation yet, but preliminary reports indicated that some of the Indian agents had been killed by the heroic soldiers defending Suriyawong. A visiting Battle School graduate had also been killed.
Some of Bean's soldiers chuckled, but soon enough they were all grim-faced. The fact that the reporters had been told Bean and Suriyawong were dead meant that whoever made the report believed they were both inside the offices at an hour when the only way anyone could know that was if the bodies had been found, or the building had been under observation. Since the bodies had obviously not been found, whoever was writing the official reports from the Chakri's office must have been part of the plot.
"I can understand someone wanting to kill Borommakot," said Suriyawong. "But why would anyone want to kill me?"
The soldiers laughed. Bean smiled.
Patrols returned and went out, again, again. No movement toward the barracks. The news carried the initial response from various commentators. India apparently wanted to cripple the Thai military by eliminating the nation's finest military mind. This was intolerable. The government would have no choice now but to declare war and join Burma in the struggle against Indian aggression.
Then new information came. The Prime Minister had declared that he would take personal control of this disaster. Someone in the military had obviously slipped badly to allow a foreign penetration of the high command's own base. Therefore, to protect the Chakri's reputation and make sure there was no hint of a cover-up of military errors, Bangkok city police would be supervising the investigation, and Bangkok city fire officials would investigate the wreckage of the exploded building.
"Good job," said Suriyawong. "The Prime Minister's cover story is strong and the Chakri won't resist letting police onto the base."
"If the fire investigators arrive soon enough," said Bean, "they might even prevent the Chakri's men from entering the building as soon as it cools enough from the fire. So they won't even know we weren't there."
Sirens moving through the base announced the arrival of the police and fire department. Bean kept waiting for the sound of gunfire. But it never came.
Instead, two of the patrols came rushing back.
"Someone is coming, but not soldiers. Bangkok police, sixteen of them, with a civilian."
"Just one?" asked Bean. "Is one of them a woman?"
"Not a woman, and just one. I believe, sir, that it is the Prime Minister himself."
Bean sent out more patrols to see if any military forces were within range.
"How did they know we were here?" asked Suriyawong.
"Once they took control of the Chakri's office," said Bean, "they could use the military personnel files to find out that the soldier who sent that last email was in this barracks when he sent it."
"So it's safe to come out?"
"Not yet," said Bean.
A patrol returned. "The Prime Minister wishes to enter this barracks alone, sir."
"Please," said Bean. "Invite him in."
"So you're sure he's not wired up with explosives to kill us all?" asked Suriyawong. "I mean, your paranoia has kept us alive so far."
As if in answer, the vid showed Chakri driving away from the main entrance to the base, under police escort. The reporter was explaining that Naresuan had resigned as Chakri, but the Prime Minister insisted that he merely take a leave of absence. In the meantime, the Minister of Defense was taking direct personal control of the Chakri's office, and generals from the field were being brought in to staff other positions of trust. Until then, the police had control of the command system. "Until we know how these Indian agents penetrated our most sensitive base," the Minister of Defense said, "we cannot be sure of our security."
The Prime Minister entered the barracks.
"Suriyawong," he said. He bowed deeply.
"Mr. Prime Minister," said Suriyawong, bowing noticeably less deeply. Ah, the vanity of a Battle School graduate, thought Bean.
"A certain nun is flying here as quickly as she can," said the Prime Minister, "but we hoped that you might trust me enough to come out without waiting for her arrival. She was on the opposite side of the world, you see."
Bean strode forward and spoke in his not-bad Thai. "Sir," he said, "I believe Suriyawong and I are safer here with these loyal troops than we would be anywhere else in Bangkok."
The Prime Minister looked at the soldiers standing, fully armed, at attention. "So someone has a private army right in the middle of this base," he said.
"I did not make my meaning clear," said Bean. "These soldiers are absolutely loyal to you. They are yours to command, because you are Thailand at this moment, sir."
The Prime Minister bowed, very slightly, and turned to the soldiers. "Then I order you to arrest this foreigner."
Immediately Bean's arms were gripped by the soldiers nearest to him, as another soldier patted him down for weapons.
Suriyawong's eyes widened, but he gave no other sign of surprise.
The Prime Minister smiled. "You may release him now," he said. "The Chakri warned me, before he took his voluntary leave of absence, that these soldiers had been corrupted and were no longer loyal to Thailand. I see now that he was misinformed. And since that is the case, I believe you are right. You are safer here, under their protection, until we explore the limits of the conspiracy. In fact, I would appreciate it if I could deputize a hundred of your men to serve with my police force as it takes control of this base."
"I urge you to take all but eight of them," said Bean.
"Which eight?" asked the Prime Minister.
"Any of these toons of eight, sir, could
stand for a day against the Indian Army."
This was, of course, absurd, but it had a fine ring to it, and the men loved hearing him say it.
"Then, Suriyawong," said the Prime Minister, "I would appreciate your taking command of all but eight of these men and leading them in taking control of this base in my name. I will assign one policeman to each group, so that they can clearly be identified as acting under my authority. And one group of eight will, of course, remain with you for your protection at all times."
"Yes sir," said Suriyawong.
"I remember saying in my last campaign," said the Prime Minister, "that the children of Thailand held the keys to our national survival. I had no idea at the time how literally and how quickly that would be fulfilled."
"When Sister Carlotta arrives," said Bean, "you can tell her that she is no longer needed, but I would be glad to see her if she has the time."
"I'll tell her that," said the Prime Minister. "Now let's get to work. We have a long night ahead of us."
Everyone was quite solemn as Suriyawong called out the toon leaders. Bean was impressed that he knew who they were by name and face. Suriyawong might not have sought out Bean's company very much, but he had done an excellent job of keeping track of what Bean was doing. Only when everyone had moved out on their assignments, each toon with its own cop like a battle flag, did Suriyawong and the Prime Minister allow themselves to smile. "Good work," said the Prime Minister.
"Thank you for believing our message," said Bean.
"I wasn't sure I could believe Locke," said the Prime Minister, "and the Hegemon's Minister of Colonization is, after all, just a politician now. But when the Pope telephoned me personally, I had no choice but to believe. Now I must go out and tell the people the absolute truth about what happened here."
"That Indian agents did indeed attempt to kill me and an unnamed foreign visitor," asked Suriyawong, "but we survived because of quick action by heroic soldiers of the Thai Army? Or did the unnamed foreign visitor die?"
"I fear that he died," Bean suggested. "Blown to bits in the explosion."
"In any event," said Suriyawong, "you will assure the people, the enemies of Thailand have learned tonight that the Thai military may be challenged, but we cannot be defeated."
Shadow of the Hegemon Page 23