“You want me to lie? Isn’t that a little cowardly?”
She nodded and laughed. “Yes. But necessary. I will pay the price for the lie if you decide to leave us, but if you stay, then the deception is as if it never existed.”
“Why?” I asked. “What do you need?”
“Above us in a conference room are generals and representatives from multiple armies, including the Thai. The Laotians and Cambodians refuse to accept Thai command. The Thais won’t budge on their need to lead all forces and are insisting that the Laotians and Cambodians leave if they don’t agree. And none of them will serve us, the Gra Jaai.”
“And that surprises you? I have news for you, Lucy, most people think the Gra Jaai and your religion are completely insane.”
Lucy nodded again. “Concur. But that’s not why they won’t concede command to us.”
“Well, then, what is the problem?”
“The same one we’ve always had. The nonbred created us and cannot conceive of serving under our leadership. They hate us.”
The enormity of what she was asking made me feel sick. This was politics. For the situation she described, Lucy would need a real leader, someone who understood strategies and the subtleties associated with commanding mixed forces in what was the strangest setting imaginable in the most important conflict the region had faced since the last Asian War.
“I’m no leader,” I said. “You need someone they’ll respect and believe. Someone they wouldn’t dare reject. I have no clue about military strategy and barely have a grasp of small unit tactics. For the past few years I’ve been an assassin, a killer. It’s all I’ve ever been good at, but it’s not something a Thai general is likely to respect.”
Lucy threw her cigarette to the ground and rested the uniform over my legs. “We respect it, and that’s what matters. The Chinese are boring toward us now, and they’re bombarding the trenches above with artillery and air strikes. Do you believe in God yet, Lieutenant?”
“You know I don’t. Margaret must have told you before she died.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “we do. And Margaret did. She knew that we’d need the help of the other Asian nations and that the only person they’d follow would be nonbred—a non-Thai nonbred. You. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know strategy or tactics because we can take care of that.”
“What do I have to do?” I asked.
“Be yourself. And try to trust that this is in God’s hands, not yours.”
I stared at the orange jacket. It was a pale color, more like pumpkin, and had two white shoulder patches with red crosses, and along one sleeve was a line of horizontal red stripes fringed with white piping. Above the left breast pocket was a sea of fruit salad—tiny ribbons in hundreds of different patterns and colors, the uppermost of which was a rectangular green ribbon with a tiny white lily in its center. An enamel lily had been affixed to each collar.
I pointed to the green ribbon, my finger on the lily. “What’s this ribbon?”
“That one signifies your last patrol and the death of Margaret, your greatest achievement. The others are for the actions you saw the last time you fought in Burmese bush wars, for Kazakhstan and for every mission in between. The lily is the symbol of leadership in the Gra Jaai, our highest honor, and it represents those who are pure killers.”
“And the red stripes?”
“One for each of our sisters you assassinated in your hunts.”
I stared at her. “How the hell did you get all the information? It’s not like it’s available in the press.”
“We,” said Lucy with a smile, “have important contacts in the Thai Army. I didn’t know you had fought here before.”
“It’s not something I advertise.”
The completeness of it impressed me. Although the jacket’s color seemed odd, it went with the rest of the uniform and with the Gra Jaai’s tendency to want to stand out. Even now I didn’t understand them completely; they wanted to honor the person who’d murdered their leader, wanted to follow me, and even knowing that I was no general hadn’t detracted from Lucy’s enthusiasm in the least.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll pretend. But this doesn’t mean I’m taking the job.”
She smiled and started to lift me from the bed, pulling the IVs out. “We need to move now. I’ll help you get dressed.”
“Jesus,” I hissed. As soon as I sat up, the pain returned, and my head started to swim. “Am I going to live?”
“You’ll be fine,” Lucy said, bending down to start sliding the pants on. “We’ll take you to a briefing first, on our tactical and strategic situation, then meet with the generals and admirals.”
“How’s Jihoon?”
She looked up. “He’s not doing well. We couldn’t retrieve his leg from the jungle, and he lost a lot of blood. He’ll make it, and American doctors can grow him a new limb, but mentally…”
“Fuck it,” I said. “Let’s get this over with so I can pay him a visit and get drunk.”
I followed Lucy into the conference room, my shirt and jacket pulled onto my left arm but draped over my wounded right shoulder. It felt like a costume more than a uniform. As soon as we entered, the Gra Jaai—including the satos—snapped to attention around the room’s edge, forcing the others silent as they sat and stared at me. None of them rose. I recognized the Thai general, the one who had glared at me in Bangkok, who sat at the head of a long table with his subordinates on either side, and senior officers from at least four other countries filled the remaining seats.
Everyone waited. My skin crawled with the sudden sensation that I was out of my element, and it took only a second to decide that this was a mistake because I was sure that the men and women saw through me, recognized me as the imposter I was. What had Lucy been thinking? After more than a week in the field, I’d lost several pounds and must have looked gaunt, and when I raised my less-injured arm to run a hand through my hair was surprised to find it all gone, before remembering that it had burned off. I had no idea what my face looked like. But the expression of shock on an Indian admiral’s face, a woman, said it all, and if she looked that disgusted it must have been bad.
I leaned over and whispered to Lucy. “I know the Thai general. He already doesn’t like me.”
“Don’t worry about it. A week from now you have an audience with the King, where you’ll present evidence that he and several of the other Army commanders have been planning a coup. He’s of no concern.”
I grinned at the man, who smiled back and spoke loudly so that everyone at the table could hear while Lucy translated.
“This man is a drunk. A lieutenant. He disobeyed American orders, and his handlers are on their way here now, to pick up their trash.” A couple of officers chuckled, but most waited as the Thai general placed a pair of glasses on his nose. “Where were we?”
“You’re in my seat,” I said.
He glanced back at me. “Run along. Colonel Momson should be here in a few minutes, and you can visit the Khlong Toei brothels before we kick you out. I’ve heard all about you.”
Now he was pissing me off. The general looked smug as he tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for my reaction, and I stepped forward, trying to ignore the pain from my shoulder.
“Get out of my seat. Now. Or I’ll have my girls beat the shit out of you.”
His face went pale. “How dare you! I am the field marshal of the Royal Thai Army, cousin to the King himself.” His aides stood and rested their hands on their pistols. “Leave now, or I’ll have you shot.”
The girls moved. His aides, all colonels, screamed when they found their arms twisted behind their backs and struggled against the satos, who now forced them toward the entrance. When they were gone, I grinned more broadly.
“You’re in my seat,” I repeated.
This time he stood. The general was shorter than I remembered and frail, and he pushed past to follow his men so I could collapse into the vacant seat with a grateful sigh. He turned at the door and s
pat on the floor.
“This is Thailand. The King will make sure that all of you are hung.”
I nodded. “This is Thailand. And the Royal Thai Army is a disgrace. My forces repelled the first Chinese advance without the benefit of your Army and without air cover or plasma. This is a planning session for war. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable back in Bangkok talking about war rather than participating in it.”
When the general left, the others at the table relaxed. One or two grinned, and the Laotian and Cambodian generals leaned back, laughing.
“The Cambodian,” Lucy whispered, “is General Im, and the Laotian is General Choulamontry.”
Choulamontry spoke first. “Laos and Cambodia have moved an infantry division each onto the line so we can see for ourselves what we’re up against. The remainder of three Army groups are staging now to move in and reinforce. Provided we can agree on how this will work.”
“This is how it works, General.” I lit a cigarette and leaned back in my chair, thanking God that Lucy had briefed me. “The Chinese movement suggests that they plan to take over Thailand and then Laos and Vietnam. Why? Because that way they get access to non-radioactive port cities and the entirety of the South China Sea, which opens the door to the rest of the Pacific while they move on India’s eastern border. So either we ally now and stop them, or you can take your chances later. Alone. Who knows, maybe they don’t care about Laos or Cambodia. Maybe they’ll save you for last.”
A Vietnamese admiral nodded. “It’s true. Our forces have already detected Chinese buildup along our northern border, and their port cities, all of which had been previously abandoned, are now showing activity. We expect an attack within weeks.”
“We,” said the Indian representative, “are already at war.”
“We don’t know anything about their troop strengths,” said General Im. “All we hear are stories from these”—he pointed at Lucy—“ things that the Chinese have a new kind of genetically engineered soldier, ones that incorporate powered armor.”
I nodded at Lucy, who waved at a pair of Gra Jaai. They stepped out and returned a minute later carrying one of the Chinese bodies from the morgue, placing it gently on the table before removing the plastic sheet in which it had been wrapped. Nobody said a word until Im shook his head.
“You started this. Americans. You played God and unleashed a horror on the rest of us. What did you think? That you could keep control of these creations, that your secret wouldn’t get out even when you went to war in Kazakhstan? Do you really expect us to give command of Laotian and Cambodian troops to these Gra Jaai and their bitches? That we even want American forces here?”
I didn’t blame him. It was easy to sympathize with the general’s position, especially since I’d shared it only a week prior. “No. I expect you to hand over command to me. I’ll work with you to make sure that Laotian and Cambodian troops are used in the right way and aren’t wasted. And I’m not American, not anymore, and we will not ask for or approve of US assistance in this war, except for any material assistance they’re willing to provide, including fresh genetic troops. But you have to promise me something.”
“Go on,” he said.
“You have to promise me that your men and women won’t break and run like pissy little girls the first time they see a Chinese genetic.”
“What do you know about genetics?” Choulamontry asked. “We don’t know anything about you.”
“I just came back from a mission ten kilometers inside Burma. I killed a Chinese genetic by riding it down a mountain and shoving a thermite grenade into a gap in its armor.”
Lucy stopped translating and said something in rapid Laotian, and I watched as the generals’ eyes went wide, the two of them looking at each other.
“What did you tell them?” I whispered once she’d finished.
“That you single-handedly hunted down and killed over thirty of my sisters and that you did the same using only a knife against Margaret.”
General Im leaned forward and whispered to Choulamontry, then looked at me. “Give us some time. We see your points, and although it will be difficult to convince our leadership to work with Thailand, the threat is imminent and clear. None of us want another war with China, but they must be crushed, once and for all. It will take discussion.”
The hard part was over. Now Lucy and I smoked while the generals and admirals spoke, at times shouting to make themselves heard, and several times I caught the Japanese Gra Jaai, especially the women, staring at me. Their eyes snapped forward when I caught them doing it.
“Why are they staring at us?” I asked.
Lucy whispered back. “They are amazed that you killed Margaret. And they are excited.”
“Why?”
“Because you killed Margaret. She was their spiritual leader, and many can’t wait to see God’s plan.”
An hour passed and then two. The officers pelted us with questions to the point where I began to tire, and Lucy stopped the debate, noticing that I was starting to fade.
“We need an answer,” I said. “There isn’t time for talking anymore.”
The Laotian glanced at Im, who nodded before smiling. “We agree. Choulamontry and I will begin moving troops immediately, but we’ll have to work out coordinating communications, defensive position, and plans—starting first thing tomorrow. We’re talking about months of preparation; are you sure you can hold the Chinese for that long?”
“We’ll hold them. And our technicians will begin tackling communications and language issues tonight,” I said, trying to hide my relief.
The Philippine admiral spoke up. “Ours and the Malaysian and the Indonesian ships will assist the Vietnamese in defending their territories within the South China Sea. What about the Thai Navy?”
“In one week,” I said. “I’ll have all the Thai armed forces in line, with the King’s full support. Leave that to me.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Im. We stood and nodded at each other before Lucy and I turned to leave. I leaned over and whispered one last question to her.
“You’re sure you can come up with a strategy to deal with all this crap?”
She laughed and nodded. “I told you, Lieutenant. It isn’t up to me now, it’s up to Him.”
“You said I had a meeting with the King in one week. How do you know I’ll even be here?”
“I don’t. But how do we know any of us will be here?”
Lucy left me alone with Jihoon, who lay under a plastic tent like I had. By now the water had soaked my uniform jacket. I pulled up a chair next to his gurney, and it hit me without warning: the mission was over. We’d made it. A feeling of uncertainty settled over me as I realized that the future was empty and that soon I’d have to decide what to do with the rest of my life. Then, without warning, the uncertainty snowballed into terror that made the room shrink, the ceiling promising to collapse with every artillery strike far above, and the air was too hot to breathe, so I had to grab my chair and close my eyes, telling myself that none of it was real. The only option was to stay, to lead the Gra Jaai, but who would want to do that? Most people would be happy to have survived the things I’d been through and would look forward to retirement after twenty years of service, transitioning from military to civilian service with a grin. But that meant going home to the States. My gut told me that if I did that, it wouldn’t be long before I drank myself to death and Phillip would be on his own.
I opened my eyes again and ducked under the plastic to touch Jihoon’s shoulder.
“Hey, Bug,” he said. “We made it.”
“I guess.” His skin felt cold, and I pulled my hand away, the sensation reminding me of a corpse. “How are you feeling?”
Ji looked up and away from me. “I lost my leg.”
“Yeah, but they can grow you a new one, and to tell you the truth, I might get that genetic work done on my knees; they’ve gotten that bad. You saved my ass, Chong. I owe you one.”
“Then tell me what to
do. I don’t know if I can handle this job anymore; the tank wasn’t like reality at all, and now that I’ve been in it, I don’t think I have the guts to go on another mission. I’m scared.”
I sighed and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips and then lighting it. I took one too. The smoke started to take the edge off my own fears, softening the pain from my shoulder and making me feel unbelievably tired so that I wanted to tell Jihoon to shove over and make room for me on the bed.
“Don’t decide anything,” I said. “You might be scared, but you functioned out there. You killed the enemy before he killed you and made it back, so don’t give me that shit that you don’t have what it takes. If you didn’t, you would have just run and left me to the Chinese.”
Jihoon shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He grinned then and took a long pull from the cigarette. “One of the Gra Jaai just stopped by and told me that we’re going home in a few minutes. Momson arrived, and they’ll be taking us out on the rotary wing.”
The news surprised me. I’d thought there’d be more time before his arrival, but discussions with the generals had taken longer than I’d anticipated, and now the feeling of terror returned because I’d have to make a decision.
Ji was staring at me. “You’re not going with us, are you?”
“No. I think I’m staying here.”
“I figured. You’re made for this stuff, Bug. For you to go home would be like trying to teach a gorilla how to dance ballet. Maybe you could do it, but it wouldn’t look pretty. Besides, it’s like I already said. If I didn’t know any better and hadn’t seen your file, I’d say you were a damn sato yourself.”
I laughed. “That’s an insult.”
“Yeah. They’re crazy, the Gra Jaai are crazy, but you’re not too sane yourself. What will you tell the brass?”
Lucy returned and lifted the plastic, telling me that Momson had arrived and was waiting for me outside the main entrance; her troops refused to let him enter and had threatened to kill the Special Forces reps who were supposed to have replaced Remorro and Orcola. Two Gra Jaai pulled the plastic off Jihoon and prepared to wheel him away.
Chimera (The Subterrene War) Page 31