The March of the Dragons

by Andrew McAuley

  'How did you get here if your bike's broken?' Tuấn said.

  'I used a Xe-om.' His gaze darted left to right.

  'It’s good that you have money for motorcycle taxis.'

  'Are you a student, or bank manager?'

  'I think I do have to study after all. Excuse me.' Tuấn jogged up the winding staircase to the second floor. He could still hear his uncle’s voice complaining about a 2,000 dong increase in the cost of a can of his favourite beer.

  He closed his bedroom door. Tuấn felt lucky to have his own room: most students either lived with their parents or shared a rented room or dormitory. He slept in the room which his father and his siblings had shared as children.

  He walked past his unmade bed to his desk by the window; its surface covered in paper, pencils, PC gaming magazines and books on politics and economics. Half buried under some papers lay his apple laptop. Next to that a small portable TV. A wheeled office chair with one arm rest missing sat by the desk with yesterday's shirt flung over the back-rest. He'd left the window open because the old ceiling fan hadn't worked in weeks. He poked the TV power button and adjusted the screen angle before flopping into his chair- sending it sliding backwards a foot or so.

  He tipped his laptop to slide off the magazines and papers. The cascade of paper knocked a plastic tumbler half filled with water to the floor. With a muttered curse he placed the laptop on the bed and plucked the dirty shirt from the chair. Dropping it to the floor he pushed it about with his foot to mop the spillage.

  He opened his laptop. It hadn't been shut down so whirred to life quickly. He just had to pass his thumb over the scanner to unlock it. The internet browser showed the message 'This page cannot be displayed'.

  ‘Troi oi!’ He slipped his mobile phone out of his pocket; that too showed no internet connection. He thumbed through the directory and pressed ‘call’. It was answered after just two rings.

  'Hey, Tuấn bro.'

  'Yeah hi, Sơn. Is your internet working?'

  'No, bro. Not since this morning. I can’t pick up wi-fi anywhere.'

  'It's not working here either,' Tuấn said.

  'Try the internet cafe?'

  Tuấn removed his glasses. Tossing them onto his bed he stretched his legs. 'I don't need it urgently.'

  'Internet sucks, man. I wanted to play counter-attack,' Sơn grumbled.

  'Maybe the cable between here and Hong Kong is damaged again.'

  Sơn groaned. 'I hope not bro. Takes weeks to fix.'

  Tuấn frowned. 'Maybe the Chinese cut it again. They shot down one of our planes the other day and rammed fishing boats near their illegal oil drilling platforms.'

  'Yeah bro. Not the first time they cut the cable. We should blow up those freakin' oil rigs, man.'

  Tuấn slapped his forehead. 'You don't know what you're talking about. It's not a computer game you know.'

  Sơn's laugh crackled through the phone line. 'Whatever, bro.'

  'I have to go, Sơn.'

  'Hey, we should catch up after graduation. All the old gang from before we went to different universities. We'll go to some bar. It'll be awesome.'

  'Sure, Sơn.' Ending the call, Tuấn stared at the ceiling while idly toying with the phone. He caught snatches of the conversation downstairs.

  ‘I’ll pay you back soon as I can Mama.’

  Tuấn stood and walked to the window. He watched his uncle count out some blue banknotes as he shuffled away from the house like a fat tax collector then hail one of the Xe-Om’s who parked their motorcycle taxi at the end of the street. Tuấn held an imaginary rifle in his hands. Closing one eye he took aim at the back of his uncle's head and mimicked the motion of a rifle's recoil.

  'Pow,' he whispered.

  Phượng

  4th March, 08:40

  Phượng checked the time on her phone; still four minutes until class. She skipped from the motorbike shelter with her pink 'hello kitty' backpack bouncing against her ribcage. Most students were already inside. One other girl hurried across the courtyard clutching textbooks to her chest. A pair of malingerers sat by the fire escape smoking. Phượng wondered why layabouts were so brazen in rule flaunting; was it for attention?

  She whisked through the sliding doors of the main entrance. She wasn't late but it wouldn't do to be the last into class. She'd have been early if she hadn't stopped off at the temple. It was the third anniversary of her grandfather's death. Her family would mark the occasion in Canada but Phượng could only burn incense at the temple.

  The clapping of her smart black shoes on the steps echoed through the empty stairwell. She was panting by the time she reached the third floor but didn't slow; quick-marching down the corridor stopping only at the classroom doorway. She paused in the doorway. Every desk but hers was occupied. Even Huy was at his desk- albeit with his feet on the desk and chair tilted onto the back legs. She felt her cheeks warm when teacher's eyes met hers.

  'Do you need an invitation? Take your seat, Miss Phượng.' Teacher’s eyes gently mocked her from over the rim of his glasses. A few students chuckled.

  She bowed her head and made her way to her desk on the second row. She noticed Tuấn watching her from the front row. She met his gaze as she sat then quickly looked down at her scratched desk; immediately feeling stupid for doing so. She silently counted to three. If he was still looking at her when she reached three maybe he did love her. When she looked up it was at the back of his head.

  She didn’t feel bad. She was used to such disappointments. She wished they didn’t have to play this game, yet if she overtly showed interest in him she left herself open to potential humiliation. It was better to wait for him. She swung her little bag from shoulder to lap. Unzipping it she pulled out a notebook and a silver pen which she placed on the desk before dropping the backpack under it. She caught snatches of conversations as students waited for the lecture to begin.

  'Ly Hai is so old fashioned. Nobody listens to his music,' Hồng scolded one of the girls.

  'I wouldn't go to Da Lat during Tet,' a boy said to his neighbour, 'it's too busy.'

  Phượng doodled a spiral on her writing pad until she felt absorbed into the background of the classroom- her late arrival forgotten by her colleagues. She silently chastised herself. Nobody else would care about being last into class.

  Teacher stood. Coughing loudly, he rapped his knuckles on the white board. 'Students, good morning. I've decided to talk about something off curriculum today.' He paused as if waiting for an objection. 'We always study new trends. There have been serious developments recently. Foreign oil extraction vessels illegally deployed in our territorial waters- not for the first time. A Vietnamese jet shot down over our waters and the pilot captured. A riot in district one leaving Chinese and Taiwanese nationals injured.'

  Teacher allowed a long pause. His expression firm and serious like a traffic policeman's during rush hour. 'Many say China will rule the world. Others have been predicting China's economy crash. How does either affect us?'

  Unsure if it was a rhetorical question, Phượng turned to Ngoc who sat to her right. Ngoc shrugged. Thành, a shaven headed boy in the front row slowly raised his hand. Teacher nodded at him.

  'Sir, Asia is on the rise and the West is in decline. China is the future, but so are we. Our economy is smaller but faster growing.' The boy spoke quickly and confidently.

  Teacher cocked his head to the left as if weighing up the answer. 'What if China doesn't want to share the pie?'

  Silence. Nobody seemed sure how to answer. Where was he going with it? A girl raised her hand and was granted leave to speak through a nod.

  'They don't control us. We're not to be bullied like Hong Kong was,' the girl said.

  Teacher grunted. 'Yes, but there are enough Chinese warships in the Eastern sea to blockade our ports. Nobody is stopping them from taking oil. If our planes fly over disputed resources they are shot down. Here in our own country China is obliterating the land to take our resources.' Te
acher straightened. His hands became fists. His eyebrows pressed toward his nose as he continued with voice raised. 'Bauxite mining in the highlands destroys coffee crops. Cement factories in the Mekong delta choke towns like Kien Luong. Chinese factories pour toxic chemicals into rivers.'

  Phượng had never heard teacher speak so strongly. It was dangerous. She knew Chinese companies had caused controversy by destroying large parts of the ecology in the countryside, but had done so under licence from the Vietnamese government. Even if they'd acted beyond the scope of those licences you couldn't go about criticizing the government, even indirectly.

  'China chokes Vietnam!' Teacher slammed his fist into his open palm, 'we need to stand up against foreign aggression. Some of you may be captains of industry one day. Remember what your grandparents fought for. We didn't suffer under the French and the Americans just so China could break us with underhand tactics, betrayals and aggressive foreign policies.'

  'Let’s go lynch some Chinese!' a voice called out from the back to some scattered laughter. Phượng knew without looking that it was Huy.

  Teacher's eyes locked on the boy. Holding the stare for several seconds before looking down with a sigh. His shoulders slumped. When he looked up his features seemed to droop. Anger replaced by resignation. 'We’ll again cover Swot and Pestle analysis. You'll all need to be sure on these before preparing for your thesis.'

  The rest of lesson progressed awkwardly. Teacher didn't engage the class further. He taught directly from texts they'd already studied so few students made notes. When the class was dismissed Phượng tidied her papers and pen into her bag, but held back from leaving. Tuấn didn’t wait around for teacher and left chatting with Minh. When she turned back to teacher he was looking directly at her. He waited until the last student filed out.

  'What would you like today, Miss Phượng?'

  'Teacher, please forgive me.' She stood and bowed her head. Clasping her hands in front of her. 'What you said in your lesson was much different to what you told Tuấn and I two days ago.'

  Keeping her eyes down she heard him grunt and the creaking of his leather shoes as he approached her desk.

  'Things have changed in two days. I underestimated the Chinese resolve to rule the world.'

  'Teacher, why did you tell us about that today?'

  His polished shoes stood inches from her own. He put his index finger under her chin and lifted her face. Looking into her eyes. She inwardly squirmed with discomfort. It was a mistake. She should've left with the class.

  'The world is going to hell. Your generation will have to fix our mistakes.'

  She could smell the thick scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his suit. She didn't fully comprehend his meaning. She blinked a nod and flashed a half smile hoping the acknowledgement would satisfy him.

  He smirked and dropped his hand to his side. Phượng breathed. He turned from her and walked back to his desk. She stood to leave.

  'Miss Phượng… you could've asked during class. You clever students often act like you know it all. Questions are how you learn, Miss Phượng.'

  'Yes teacher.' She was distracted by the tremor that reverberated through the floor accompanied by the growl of a jet engine somewhere above. It was strange. She’d never heard a plane flying over the university before.

  'Do you have any other questions, Miss Phượng?'

  'No, teacher. Thank you.' She picked up her bag, stumbled around her desk and headed for the door. She felt silly for staying behind. She didn't have the relationship with him that Tuấn had. It was silly to assume she could share the bond.

  The corridor was busy with students shuffling between classes. There was a ten-minute break. She could probably find her friends in the canteen. She descended the stairwell and pushed through the canteen door. The long white tables and bright green chairs were all empty. Students crowded around the large floor to ceiling windows. They all looked skywards. She rushed to join them. Squeezing between two students to reach the front.

  The tip of her nose touched the cold glass, her breath misting the pane. She strained to see what they were looking at. Clouds blanketed most of the sky. Then airborne objects entered her peripheral vision. At first she thought birds. They were jet planes; perhaps a dozen flying in close formation- only in sight for a few moments before vanishing into clouds.

  'What is it?' she asked to nobody in particular.

  'Fighter jets,' mumbled her classmate Dũng, 'before that was a flight of helicopters.'

  She turned her attention to him. Dũng was Huy’s henchman; always following him and laughing at his jokes. His mouth hung open and his eyes winced as he tried to comprehend the significance of what he saw. The thundering engines faded into the distance. Students began to return to their seats. Outside a police siren whirred. Then another. Something was happening.

  Tuấn

  4th March 15:00

  It seemed that all the University's students were crowded into the courtyard. Some cried. Some yapped frantically into cell phones. Others clutching each other for comfort. A few had fetched their bikes and pushed through the press of students to leave campus. Teachers overwhelmed by the incessant volley of questions from panicked students, called for calm.

  Tuấn surveyed the faces around him; all submerged in their own personal crisis, crying their alarms. The cacophony sounding like a swarm of angry bees. He adjusted his glasses and considered returning to the empty classroom. From there he'd be able to pick up the radio on his phone and listen in peace. A first year student walked backwards into him. The student spun about with his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes wide, almost wild.

  'I can't get through to my Momma. Why doesn't she answer?' the student screeched.

  'What will we do? Will we get bombed?' another student demanded of nobody in particular.

  'Father please… I'll be home as soon as I can,' a girl sobbed into her phone.

  Tuấn sniffed. What use was panic? He took his own cell phone from his pocket. He'd missed a call from Gran. He opened an SMS and dexterously tapped in 'be home soon'. Sighing, he checked the call log again. There were no other calls. His so-called father, so keen to speak to him a few days past had apparently forgotten him. He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  A whistle screamed a harsh demanding blast. It was the University Dean. Heads turned, yet terrified ramblings continued. Several more blasts rang out. The Dean's face strained with the exertion of his furious salvo. Teachers called for attention. Gradually the students quietened enough for the Dean to speak.

  'We've all heard the news. Many of you are shocked and worried for relatives in the North. I have decided to call an early end to classes today.'

  Tuấn felt an arm hook around his, pulling him close. It was a female student he didn't know. Her other arm was similarly hooked around the student on her right. Her reddened eyes locked on the Dean, her jaw hung open, and her hair clung to the wetness on her cheeks. Tuấn glowered at her intrusion but patted her arm twice which he hoped felt reassuring. She blinked but didn't so much as look at him. He wasn't sure she even knew whose arm she had grappled.

  'We will return to lectures tomorrow,' the Dean continued, 'there's no cause for alarm. There is no immediate danger. On the radio the government are calling for calm and normality in the south. We will listen to instructions and act accordingly.'

  Repeating his calls for calm the Dean dismissed the students. The courtyard quickly descended into its previous state of chaos. Tuấn's arm was released. The girl looked at him in shock as if it'd been him who'd caught hold of her. She turned to the girl on her right, sobbing about her worries for her family.

  Tuấn manoeuvred and squeezed around groups of students toward the bike shelter before noticing Phượng and Vân holding onto each other and talking earnestly. He made to walk around them but as he passed his eyes met Vân's. He saw her tap Phượng's shoulder and nod toward him.

  Caught before them, he became cemented to the spot. Phư
ợng studied him with unemotional eyes. She didn’t say anything.

  'Excuse me' he muttered, turning away. Phượng's hand stopped him before he'd taken half a step. He turned back toward her. Her smooth features still blank of expression. The hair on her left side was swept back behind her ear, which protruded a little far from her head giving her an elfish look. She squeezed his arm.

  'Where are you going?’ Her voice sounded barely a whisper above the hum of the other students.

  'Just home. Watch the news.'

  'Won't you go to your family?'

  He shrugged. 'Grandma is family. I don’t know why everyone’s so worried. There's no danger. The Dean said so.'

  'You could come with us.' A flicker of a nervous smile pinched the corners of her mouth.

  Tuấn pressed the centre of his glasses, propping them up the bridge of nose. 'You definitely don’t have to worry. Your family is in Canada.'

  He glimpsed Vân glaring at him from over Phượng's shoulder. Phượng's hand left his arm. She took a half step backwards. Her face a pale oval mask.

  He winced. He didn’t mean to be so tactless. It was easy to say the wrong thing to a girl. He lightly placed his fingertips on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. 'You'll be safe, ok? Don't worry,'

  She blinked once. Her lips parted as if she was going to say something but changed her mind.

  'We're still friends aren't we, Em?' He prompted.

  Phượng pitched forward. Pressing her cheek on his chest she wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly. He had to place a foot back to steady himself against the unexpected embrace. He patted her back and stumbled to find words of comfort. His startled gaze fell on Vân whose cold unblinking stare regarded him along with narrowed lips and right cheek twitching in a hint of a sneer.

  'You are my brother.' Phượng's voice quivered.

  He nodded. After holding the embrace a few more moments Phượng stepped back and smiled a quick flash of her pearly white teeth.