by Dixie Lyle
I couldn’t prove it, that was the problem. My only eyewitness was one I couldn’t produce without being sent straight to a psychiatric ward, and I had no other evidence. What the heck was Abazu planning on doing when he got the body out of the clinic, anyway, rolling it down the highway with his thumb out?
[Now that we know, what are you going to do?]
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I could confront him, but what will that accomplish? All I have is the word of a lemur. And not a very descriptive word, at that.”
I made a decision. “You know what? Instead of pondering this information, I say we deliver it. Let’s go tell Eli what we’ve found out and see what he makes of it.”
[I agree. Relaying this to our superiors is the proper course of action.]
We headed straight for the graveyard. I was a little worried that Augustus might have already made his choice and the graveyard would now be preparing for war, but everything looked normal when we arrived. Well, as normal as the Great Crossroads ever looked.
We found Eli over by Davy’s Grave. He was perched on one of the benches around the site, looking like he’d been waiting for us. As soon as we showed up he flapped his way over and landed at my feet.
“Foxtrot! About time. Do you have any idea of the havoc Augustus has been wreaking? I’ve been fielding complaints from a dozen different afterlives. Wasn’t Tango supposed to be keeping an eye on him?”
“Er—yeah. She was. I mean, she did. Sort of.”
The white crow fixed a stern eye on Tango, who blinked at him innocently. “What does sort of mean, exactly?”
“I mean she was right there by his side the whole time. Believe me, if she hadn’t been there, things would have been much worse. I’m not even going to mention how bad the Hedgehog Incident could have been.”
“Really? It could have been worse? That’s hard to imagine. Of course, that poor flamingo is never going to be the same, either…”
The best way to derail your boss when he’s about to reprimand you is to drop a different problem in his lap. “Something’s happened. One of our guests, Abazu Chukwukadibia, tried to break into the facility where Augustus’s body is being stored.”
“Why?”
“To steal it, presumably. For what purpose, I couldn’t say—I don’t even know how he planned to get away with it.”
Eli launched himself into the air and flapped his way to the back of another bench. “That’s an African name—which suggests that our lion god is behind this.”
“He was the first to show up. You think Abazu is his agent?”
“It sounds possible. Possession of the body would grant Apedemek a certain amount of legitimacy. And cats are notoriously disdainful of human laws.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
Eli hopped from the bench to the seat. “For now, nothing—we have more immediate concerns. Is the Thunderbird ready?”
I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Ben after dinner. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty together the last time we talked, but—”
“Good. We need him, and now. I’ve set up meetings with both parties. I was going to use Ambrose to go get him, but it’s probably better you do it.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes. Immediately. I’ll explain the details to him when he gets here.”
And then Eli did that boss thing where he just stared at me until I turned around and left. It’s amazing how effective that technique is, even when used by a snow-white crow.
As we headed back for the house I muttered, “This is not going to go well. Ben’s not anywhere close to ready … stupid dead undecided liger. What’s the big deal, anyway? He was a trophy animal for a drug dealer. His main claim to fame is that he had unusual parents. If it’s that easy, me and most of my friends should be superstars.”
[I think I can speak to that, if I may? I have a story that might illustrate the point.]
“Sure. Once-upon-a-time me.”
[The Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea is two and a half miles wide and one hundred and sixty miles long; it is split exactly down the middle by the Military Demarcation Line. It is the most heavily armed, contentious border in the world, and has been so since 1953. The armistice agreement that was signed then detailed many things, including who could enter the zone and how they could be armed.
[There was, however, nothing in the agreement about axes or crowbars.
[This didn’t become relevant until the South Korean side—which was heavily supported by US troops—noticed that a poplar tree on their side was blocking the view between two of their observation posts. They filed the necessary paperwork with the other side to trim the tree to improve visibility, which was approved.]
Tango snorted.
Whiskey ignored her and continued. [On August eighteenth, 1976, a group of nineteen men—five workers carrying axes, three officers, and a security detail of eleven soldiers—went into the zone to trim the tree. Shortly after they started, a unit of a dozen North Korean soldiers and their lieutenant appeared. They watched for fifteen minutes or so, and then demanded the work stop. They claimed the tree had been planted by Kim Il-Sung himself and was growing under his direct supervision.
[The US officers considered this unlikely. They ignored the North Korean lieutenant, and work continued.
[A truck carrying twenty more North Korean soldiers arrived. They carried crowbars. They demanded, once more, that the work stop. And again, the other side refused.
[The North Koreans attacked.
[By the end of the fight, one US officer had been beaten to death and the other so severely wounded he died on the way to the hospital. The North Koreans claimed the South were the aggressors and they were simply defending themselves.
[The tree remained.
[Three days later, at seven in the morning, the United States and South Korea responded to the killings by returning to the site. They informed the North—very politely—that they were there in order to peacefully finish the work left undone.
[This time, they brought sixteen US Army engineers. With chain saws.
[The engineers were accompanied by two platoons of thirty US soldiers each, armed with ax handles and sidearms.
[The platoons were backed up by a South Korean special forces unit, carrying M16s and grenade launchers.
[Behind them were twenty helicopters carrying an infantry unit.
[Behind the infantry unit were seven heavily armed Cobra attack helicopters.
[In the sky over the helicopters were B-52 bombers.
[The bombers were escorted by F-4 and F-5 fighter jets.
[The aircraft carrier Midway was now anchored just offshore.
[And behind the DMZ itself were the Second Battalion, the Seventy-First Air Regiment, and twelve thousand additional troops that had just been ordered to Korea.]
Whiskey paused.
“Wow,” I said. “That must have been one helluva tree.”
[The North Koreans rushed two hundred soldiers into the area and began setting up machine-gun nests. They watched, but didn’t try to stop the engineers.]
“I’m guessing there wasn’t much left of the poplar afterward.”
[Actually, they left it standing. When they were finished it was no more than an ugly, twenty-foot stump—but an important one.]
“A symbol.”
[Yes.]
“Much like the ghost of a white liger. Okay, I get it. The cat gods are North and South Korea, and the Crossroads is the Demilitarized Zone. This isn’t so much about Augustus himself as it is about flexing muscle and refusing to back down. So why are Apedemek and Waghai Devi so pissed at each other? What’s the history between them?”
We reached the gate and went through. “Yeah? So do you know anything about those two?”
“Ah, if only our world leaders would do the same. Seems like a much more peaceful course of action.”
Most of the time, I saw Whiskey and Tango in human terms. But every now and then, they reminded me they weren’t human, and had very different points of view. “And did they?”
It was Whiskey’s turn to snort. [At least my story made sense.]
Tango paused.
“So what happened then?”
[That’s not a story. A story has a point.]
We’d reached the swimming pool beside the mansion, and I switched my voice from audible to internal. Or at least you do if you’re a cat. So you think those two cats might have been Apedemek and Waghai Devi?
We walked past the pool, through the sliding doors, and into the house. Whiskey led me straight to the kitchen, where I found Ben getting breakfast ready. That reminded me of how early it still was, and that I hadn’t eaten yet. I grabbed a muffin off a tray and said a muffled good morning around it.
“Morning,” Ben answered cheerfully. “Hey, guys. Trot, don’t you usually eat before you get here?”
I chewed and swallowed before answering. “Didn’t have time today. Things happening. Big, important. Gonna need you.”
“Need me? For what?”
“Thunderbird stuff. C’mon, we gotta go.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the back door.
“What? I’m in the middle of making breakfast! I can’t just—”
“Consuela can put out muffins, juice, and cereal. Let’s go.”
“But—”
I stopped tugging and turned to face him. “And take off that apron. That’s no way for an ambassador to dress.”
His eyes got wider. He had gorgeous eyes. I wished I had a little longer to appreciate them, but Eli was waiting. I helped him get the apron off, as he protested and tried to tell me how important his scrambled eggs were.
“Listen,” I said. “I know how good your eggs are, and how disappointed our guests are going to be that they won’t get to eat them, and how this is totally not up to your standards as a chef. But the time for cold feet is over.”
He stopped resisting and let me pull the apron off. “This is crazy. I don’t even like cats!”
“Oh, please. You adopted Tango in a heartbeat.”
“All right, all right.” Ben threw up his hands in surrender. “Lead the way. I promise I won’t make a break for it when your back is turned.”
[And if you did, you wouldn’t get far.]
He glanced at both animals uncertainly over his shoulder as we left.
“I wouldn’t mess with them,” I said. “We’ve had a rough morning.”
We marched him out to graveyard while I dug out my phone and texted Consuela about breakfast. Multitasking is the key to my sanity; too bad they keep changing the locks.
We stopped in front of the gate, because I could see Ben needed a little calming down. “Okay, look. I know this is weird and scary and you feel like you’re out of your depth. But you’ll be fine. You’re just a conduit for negotiations, right? A messenger.”
“A minute ago I was an ambassador. Which one is it?”
I was tempted to say The one that gets you through that gate, but resisted the impulse. “The job description doesn’t matter. I’ve been called everything from a gofer to an executive assistant, and the title usually says more about my boss than me. The thing is, every time I’ve been hired it was because the person who hired me thought I could do the job. And they were always right, because that was their job. So have a little faith in the one who picked you, okay?”
“A crow? That’s your backbone of your pep talk? Trust in the crow?”
“Eli is in charge of the Great Crossroads, Ben. I get the feeling that he’s a crow in the same way Mickey Mouse is a rodent. It’s only technically true.”
“You are really terrible at this.”
“And yet I got you this far.”
“I’m outnumbered.”
“You could fry any one of us with a lightning bolt. Or blast us with hurricane-force winds.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know. But you could.”
I opened the gate and motioned him through. “Just keep telling yourself that. If that doesn’t help, remember how much cats hate getting wet. You could always whip up a rainstorm.”
He walked through the gate. He did it slowly, but he did it.
[Be. Quiet.]
We found Eli right where we left him. He flew right over and landed on Ben’s shoulder, who, to his credit, didn’t flinch—well, not much.
And then Eli put his beak up to Ben’s ear and whispered.
Ben’s eyes sort of glazed over. He stood absolutely still, not even blinking, for the ten seconds or so Eli talked to him. When the crow was done, he launched himself off Ben’s shoulder and flew away.
[That was abrupt. Things must be more serious than I thought—]
“Foxtrot,” Ben said. “It’s time to go.” He didn’t sound freaked out anymore, just solemn.
“Okay then. Good luck—”
“We’ll need it. You’re coming with me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I goggled at him. I don’t goggle very often, and as a result I’m not that good at it. “Whatwhatwhat?”
“Eli explained the whole thing to me,” Ben said. “I can do this—I think—but I’m going to need help. You’re it.”
[I suppose we shall have to hold down the fort. Any instructions before you leave?]
“Wait! Leave? I can’t just—I mean, I’m not even packed—I can’t just—”
The glare I turned on her could have melted glass. Tango, of course, ignored it completely. “You two keep an eye on Augustus. Don’t do anything so stupid it can’t be fixed.”
[Yes, boss.]
“You two better stand clear,” Ben said. “I’ve never done th
is before and it might get a little messy.”
“Done what, exactly?” I asked him nervously as Whiskey and Tango trotted away.
“This.”
Ben raised his hands and closed his eyes. A wind began to blow, but not in any normal direction; it was a circular wind that blew around both of us. A whirlwind. It expanded, until it was about a dozen feet wide, with us in the middle. I could see dust and dirt and bits of grass and leaves as they spun past, counterclockwise. The air in our immediate vicinity was utterly still, the unblinking eye of a miniature hurricane.
“Oh, boy,” I breathed. “You aren’t going to do what I think you’re going to do, are you?”
The whirlwind sped up and got louder, a hollow roar all around us. Lightning arced from Ben’s outstretched hands into the spinning walls of the vortex, turning the whole thing into a crackling, sparking tube. It was like being trapped in the center of a supercharged merry-go-round, electric horses blurring past in a furious gallop of flashing hooves and thunderbolts, everything on the other side somehow getting farther and farther away …
“If we land on a witch,” I yelled, “she damn well better take a size eight shoe!”
Ben didn’t reply, but the lightning arcing from his hands stopped. The vortex slowed. The roar softened to a growl, and then a whisper.
The whirlwind died. And we were someplace else.
It was obvious at first glance this was Apedemek’s domain: A yellow-brown African savanna stretched in all directions, and flat-topped acacia trees were visible in the distance.
I turned an accusing eye on Ben. “I can’t believe you just Dorothied me like that.”
“Sorry. But Eli told me the situation was urgent, and he’s pretty damn convincing.”
“Really? All I saw was him whisper a few words in your ear.”
“What? No, we talked for…” He frowned. “Hours? Days? But…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I learned a lot. Some of it was stuff I already knew, too—I just forgot that I knew it. Does that make any sense?”
“No. What the hell am I doing here?”
“What you’re good at. Facilitating.”
“I can’t facilitate without any facts!”