The March of the Dragons

by Andrew McAuley

  The idea of a shower sounded great. Lâm was right; a hurried wash using a bucket of cold water over the drain while the others respectfully turned their backs wasn't the best way. A shower would be most welcome; most especially if the water was hot.

  'I'll go now if you don't mind watching her,' Tuấn said.

  'Yeah sure. I bust the lock. You can walk right in. Go to the first floor. There's nothing of interest on the ground floor. Oh, keep a look out for cigarettes. I didn't find any.'

  ***

  Tuấn took his time in the shower. The water frequently went from hot to cold, but he didn't mind. There was even a little shampoo; it smelled great. His fingernails were clean for the first time in days. Reluctantly he emerged from the shower. He found a toothbrush and spent several minutes cleaning his teeth. He had his own toothbrush in the workshop but no toothpaste.

  Leaving his sweaty clothes on the floor, he padded across the smooth tiles into the master bedroom. Photos on the wall showed a middle-aged couple and their daughter. The guy looked pot-bellied, but when Tuấn opened the wardrobe he found that most of the clothes wouldn't look too bad on him.

  He selected a long sleeve blue cotton shirt, a pair of smart brown trousers with a crease folded neatly down the front. They were about four centimetres too short, but would do. He took a pair of black socks but drew the line at taking another man's underpants. He found a grey nylon jacket with padded shoulders and black patches on the elbows. The addition of a pair of sunglasses completed the outfit.

  There was no comb so he used his hands to brush his hair back. Switching back to his own glasses he popped the sunglasses in the jacket pocket. The shoes were too small so had to settle for his own; cleaning them in the bathroom sink before putting them back on. He admired himself in the mirror. He looked cool.

  Returning to the workshop he grinned at Lâm; spinning with a flourish as if on the catwalk. 'What do you think?'

  'I didn't know you're gay.'

  Laughing, Tuấn showed him his middle finger.

  Lâm took his turn to shower. He returned with a white and black baseball jersey; probably one of the few items that would fit the tall mechanic anyway.

  'If my neighbour returns after all this is over, I'll take him to the mall and buy him a tailored suit,' Lâm said.

  'You've only taken one shirt for yourself.'

  'Fine. You take him to the mall.'

  Tuấn smirked. He was then aware of Phượng's eyes on him. Still lying on the mattress, she had turned over and was watching them.

  'Oh, hi Phượng.'

  He walked to her. She sat up as he neared, rubbing her eyes. He felt guilty; she was traumatized while he was comfortable in clean clothes, neat hair and a minty fresh taste in his mouth.

  'How long have I slept?'

  Tuấn shrugged. 'Two hours. A little less perhaps.'

  'My hearing's not so great and I've got a headache.'

  Her eyes were puffy; probably irritated by the dust and dirt from her face. Grit and dirt from her clothes had spread the mattress.

  'Let’s get you freshened up and fed.'

  Phượng looked past him. 'Who's that?'

  He turned to follow her gaze. 'That's Lâm. This is his place. He's a mechanic. He's in my cell.'

  'Oh.' Phượng winced and shook her head as if to shake away fatigue. 'Hi Lâm, I'm Phượng. Thank you for accepting me into your home.'

  'You're welcome, Em. Be at home. We’re all friends here.'

  'Is it just you two?' she said, rubbing her eyes again.

  'Yeah. I told you Minh died,' Tuấn muttered.

  Phượng's expression became grim. 'Yes, you did. Sorry.'

  'We also had Thuỳ.'

  'Nguyễn Thuỳ? From school?' Phượng's tone and expression betrayed surprise.

  'Yeah. She's alive, but she’s gone to join her family.'

  Phượng nodded. 'I had Vân, Huy and Dũng. They're… all dead.'

  Tuấn put his hand on her shoulder, expecting her to move in for a hug but she remained sitting upright. Her downturned mouth, puffy red eyes and messed up hair made her look both sad and wild.

  'I'm sorry. You and Vân were close like Minh and I.'

  He was surprised she had Huy; how did she stand that jerk? He instantly felt guilty for thinking it; Huy had given his life for Vietnam. Was he jealous that Huy, a fit handsome guy had been in her cell? He studied Phượng's face. Did he have feelings for her? Maybe it was just their strange situation that made him think it.

  'What now?' she sighed.

  'We join together. The three of us.' He squeezed her shoulder.

  She nodded. Her eyes then widened. 'Oh, but we lost teacher. How can we find him? How to get orders?'

  'I thought about that. He said he could send messengers, but I've heard nothing. We still have Radio free Hanoi. Also Đức’s father was with the Police. Perhaps we can join with them.'

  'He told us not to go back.' Phượng frowned.

  'Things are different now.'

  'Wait,' Lâm said, 'what did you say about a teacher?'

  Tuấn turned to him. ‘A lecturer, Mr Cường. He was the one who got us started on this.'

  Lâm's upper lip curled. 'Are you saying we've been following the orders of a teacher?'

  'It's not like that.'

  'You just said so.'

  Tuấn shook his head. 'He was just a point of contact. Part of the network.'

  Lâm run his hand over his face as if exasperated. 'Troi oi! You're lucky you didn't tell me that from the start. I'd have never followed you.'

  'Does it matter now?' Tuấn snapped.

  Lâm's eyes remained fixed on Tuấn for a few seconds before he shrugged. 'Guess not. Is there anything else I need to know?'

  'No. Now you know everything I know.' He turned back to Phượng. 'Hungry?'

  'Starving,' she smiled.

  'We've plenty of rice and instant noodles. It was practically all Lâm stocked up on before we got here.'

  'Rice is good,' she said.

  'I'll re-boil the water then,' Lâm said.

  'We got you some clothes. You can shower next-door. Clean your teeth. Freshen up. You'll feel better.'

  She planted a quick kiss on his forehead. 'Thanks for looking after me. Like a real big brother.'

  The packet of rice was just enough for the four of them to have a bowl each. After eating, Tuấn led her next door to the shower. He waited in the master bedroom, staring out the window. A young guy was walking down the opposite side of the street. Looking about as if worried he was being followed. He noticed Tuấn and froze for a moment before apparently deciding that he was no threat and moved on. At the next doorway he pulled on the gate; it was locked. With a glance up at Tuấn he moved to the next gate and tried that one too.

  'Yeah stay on that side of the road,' Tuấn mumbled, 'you'll regret trying to open the workshop door.'

  The sound of running water stopped. Soon after the door creaked open. Phượng walked brusquely on tip toes; naked except for the towel around her. She darted into the bedroom adjacent to the bathroom. 'like a real big brother' she’d said. He supposed he should keep his thoughts under control then.

  After a few minutes Phượng returned; no longer looking tired and run down. She looked like the Phượng that he knew. She wore a yellow and black striped vest which made her look like a bee. It clung to her body. He wasn’t sure if it was too small for her, or designed to be skin-tight. She wore a pair of red shorts and the running shoes which Lâm had found. Her hair was still a little damp, but she'd apparently found a hairbrush. Her hair was wavy; he'd always assumed she did something to get that effect. Her eyes were still bloodshot, but she otherwise looked as he remembered. No, he thought. Not as he remembered; something was different. Was it her or him that had changed? Both?

  She smiled. It looked forced. 'It was good to have a nice shower, thanks.'

  'Are you okay?'

  She shrugged. Her smile seemed to come wit
h more difficulty the second time. 'I will be.'

  Tuấn nodded. 'What do you need?'

  She locked eyes with him, holding the gaze for several seconds before answering.

  'Revenge.'

  Lâm

  26th March, 11:00

  Lâm rinsed the dishes under the tap, then returned to the gas stove. He unclipped the gas canister and tested the weight; it felt light. They'd get be lucky to get one more meal out of it. Perhaps they could cook next door. He hadn't checked the gas cylinder under the kitchen counter. The Chinese had put up posters around the city warning of the 'harshest' penalties for looting. It didn't feel like much of a deterrent.

  He went about tidying up. He wanted to make the shop presentable now there was another woman staying there; a pretty one too, once she'd cleaned up. Maybe it was impossible to make the workshop seem like homely to any other than those at the bottom rungs of society, but it could at least be tidy.

  The girl seemed a curious sort. It was obvious that Tuấn had feelings for her. It wasn't clear if she'd noticed or reciprocated his feelings. Maybe it was because she was an outsider, but she made him feel a nervous. She'd come alive more in the two days since she arrived. Maybe she'd be okay after a time, but she still looked like a grenade primed to blow. His musings were interrupted by the clang of the grate as the two students returned.

  'Hey,' he said to Phượng.

  'Hey.' She flashed a smile.

  The students dropped into the plastic seats. They didn't seem about to volunteer any details of their scouting expedition.

  'Find anything?'

  'Not really,' Tuấn said, 'couple of convoys. Looks like they're moving away from static roadblocks. They're flying more drones than I noticed before.'

  ‘Cheaper than helicopters.' Lâm shrugged.

  'They're changing tactics,' Phượng said, 'it's dangerous for us.'

  'Let’s try the radio again,' Tuấn said, adjusting his glasses.

  'Alright, but I don't know how long it's good for.' Lâm picked up the radio and occupied the remaining seat.

  The radio hummed to life with a belch of static. He turned the dial. A voice was heard which he identified as Chinese so he kept turning. He cycled through the dial without finding Radio free Hanoi.

  'My guess is that the Chinese have stepped up efforts to jam the station,' he said, switching the radio off.

  'Yeah,' Tuấn slumped back in his chair, 'maybe that's the last we'll hear from The Rose.'

  'Put the traitor station on.' Phượng's request sounded more like an order.

  'Uh... we're low on batteries. I want to save it.'

  'If you can't get Hanoi, I want to hear what the Chinese are telling traitors.'

  'As you say, boss.' He raised his eyebrows at Tuấn, who shook his head.

  It was easy to find the Vietnamese language Chinese station; 'New Saigon radio'. The reception was clear. A man was talking about how China's exports, economy and GDP had risen each year despite global decline. His voice boomed authoritatively as if each statistic or fact were indisputable. Lâm didn't understand a lot of what he was talking about; he used a lot of abbreviations and made references to organisations a mechanic wouldn't care about, but he got the gist of it; China’s booming so be glad we've decided to take over your country… you might get a few crumbs from the table.

  'I don't think the Chinese farmers in the countryside would agree with him,' Tuấn said to Phượng.

  'Yes. Chinese average 1.4 homes per family worth an average of $500,000? I don't think so. Maybe in Beijing.'

  'They pick statistics from the regions most kind to the results they want. If he was talking about pollution levels he won't dare mention Beijing.'

  The students grinned at each other. Although he didn’t understand the joke, Lâm smiled. Neither of them looked at him as they chatted. Was he just there to hold the radio? Maybe he wasn't smart enough to include in their conversation. Neither of them could strip a moped down to parts then rebuild it. They had classroom based knowledge. He had practical knowledge.

  He watched them chirp away. Was it a good use of batteries? They weren't gleaning any intel from the radio. Then he noticed Tuấn's easy smile; he sat with one leg draped over the chair's arm. Phượng giggled and rolled her eyes as they criticized the broadcaster. Tuấn idly adjusted his glasses as he often did. If they were loose, why didn't he just tighten the screws?

  The presenter went on to detail the causes of decline among Western powers; their ever expanding reliance on Chinese investment, middle-eastern wars, inability to protect themselves against domestic terrorism, and the devastating effect the oil crisis had on the west. China, the broadcaster announced, had economic stability and had pacified Muslim elements in their own country- bringing an end to domestic terrorism.

  'China has Muslims?' Lâm butted into the conversation.

  The students turned to him; hesitating to speak. Lâm felt is cheeks redden. Was it a stupid question?

  'In Eastern China,' Phượng smiled, 'it used to be Turkistan or something. The Chinese pacified them with force.'

  'Maybe we should get those guys on our side.'

  The students laughed. He swiped his hand dismissively at them. They went back to listening to the radio. The subject had changed and a different broadcaster- this time a woman was talking excitedly.

  Lâm's thoughts wandered to Thuỳ and Dac; hoping they were safe. Tuấn was wrong to have brought gentle Thuỳ into the cell. During in the American war young girls joined the Viet Cong, but it was a different age. Modern kids are softer. They were used to comforts, cool hairstyles, expensive cell-phones, and drank western coffee in overpriced cafes instead of tastier Vietnamese coffee from street vendors. Their lives were incompatible with the hardships of a prolonged war.

  He watched his companions. They seemed happy enough for the moment but there was an underlying sadness and tension. They'd been in the war for a matter of weeks, yet both were near breaking point. If the war dragged on for months or years, there was little hope for them. His tougher childhood made it more bearable. He was used to hardships.

  'That's it!' Phượng leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the radio.

  'What's it?' Tuấn said, sitting upright.

  'ssshh, listen!' Phượng held up her finger for silence.

  'TV's most popular journalist, Ha Nguyen will be reporting live from the ceremony. Everyone is invited to welcome in this new age of peace and prosperity for Saigon and Vietnam!'

  Lâm hadn't been listening. He'd caught something about a celebration. It hadn't seemed important enough to drag him from his musings.

  'Remember; soldiers of the People's liberation army are here to protect us from insurgents. There's no need for citizens to fear them. Let's all join together in thanking them for their service and celebrate victory as General Long Xueping declares Saigon a free city, and the cessation of hostilities in the South of the country! Don’t forget- this week all food distribution points will be centralised to District 1 on the day of the celebration and will be stocked with Durian, Dragon fruit and beef in addition to your normal ration…'

  'Troi oi,' Tuấn whispered.

  'You don’t believe any of that, do you?' Lâm said, frowning.

  'They think they've got us beat,' Tuấn said, 'but they aren't going as far as saying they've won the war; the end of hostilities in the south she said. They think we're spent.'

  'So...' Lâm scowled as he spoke, 'did they really did destroy all our troops the other night?'

  Tuấn shook his head. 'I don't think so. Not completely anyway, but if they convince people it's a total victory and secure normality in central districts… perhaps civilian fighters will give up. Return to normal life. They control the media. They’re trying to win through propaganda.'

  Phượng murmured her agreement. 'Perhaps they’ll even swell the ranks of their volunteer traitor corps.'

  Lâm snorted. 'I doubt people are stupid enough to believe it. We don't.'
<
br />   'Sure,' Tuấn tapped his cheek thoughtfully, 'but if they can show victory and peace on TV and radio, and keep the streets quiet of gunfire… people will soon believe it.'

  Lâm nodded, it seemed reasonable. The Chinese had tried to many tactics; from securing the populace with curfews, patrols and checkpoints, to winning them over with free food, and when necessary punishing them with annihilation. They'd recently shown the fist- now they were putting on the velvet glove. If a victory parade, free food and smiles didn't work, the iron glove would be on standby.

  'What weapons do you have?' Phượng said.

  'One assault rifle… a few pistols,' Lâm muttered. He wasn't sure he was liking where this was going.

  'That will do.' Phượng sprung from the chair.

  Tuấn and Lâm exchanged questioning looks.

  'Do for what?' Lâm said, dreading that he already knew the answer.

  Phượng put her hands on her hips, rolled her eyes and sighed.

  'This celebration is going to be live on TV. We're going to go there and we're going to kill the General. We're going to kill Ha Nguyen, and we're going to show everyone that Vietnamese don’t surrender. To anyone.'

  Lâm put his face into his palm. He knew she'd be trouble.

  Timothy

  28th March, 07:15

  Light filtered through gaps in the curtains. Nancy's body pressed against him. Stretching his arms, he yawned. He reached for the alarm clock on the bedside table. He blinked focusing on the digital display; 7:16.

  ‘Typical,’ he muttered. The alarm would sound in just fourteen minutes. He deactivated it and tried to slide out of the bed without disturbing Nancy, but he'd no sooner stood when he heard her groan.

  'Oh... come back.' Looking through the slits of her eyelids she beckoned him with her outstretched hand.

  'It's quarter past seven. I'm going to shower. You can rest on awhile.'

  He walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He watched the water for a while before stepping in; a couple days ago the water came through in a brownish colour. It had been okay since but he didn't fancy a nasty surprise. Apparently the Chinese had taken control of the abandoned water treatment and supply works and it had taken a couple days to ensure fresh water was available. He liked his shower cool; in the heat it was more refreshing. A hot shower made him sweat as soon as he got out.