Chasing the Phoenix (14 page)

“Beautiful?! Marriage is not about beauty, you flame-haired lunatic. It is…” Surplus caught hold of himself. “Now you've drawn me into your fantasy. Let me put this calmly: We are not married. We will never be married. And if you ever do anything like this again, I will have you and your entire disreputable clan court-martialed and sent into exile somewhere so far from here that it doesn't even have a name! Do you understand?”

Fire Orchid patted Surplus's cheek indulgently. “You are always very sure of yourself. I think it is cute.” As they had argued, her hair had grown brighter, the way it invariably did whenever she was particularly enjoying herself. Now she grew thoughtful and her tresses darkened to so deep a red as to be almost black. “Have you asked White Squall exactly what she's looking for?”

“No, I haven't.”

“I really think you should.”

*   *   *

AS IT
turned out, White Squall had already found what she was seeking.

The city archives were an endless grid of narrow stone rooms stacked in layers extending deep beneath Government House, each room little more than a corridor lined on either side with floor-to-ceiling shelves containing crates, scrolls, or bundles of records, depending upon which era they had been entombed there. Having passed briefly through them during a ceremonial tour of municipal facilities and been told exactly how many hundred miles of running shelves there were, Surplus was amazed that anything could have been found there at all. Yet when he arrived at the building's front steps, archaeologists were scurrying up and down them like so many ants, carrying out armload after armload of folders, books, and other printed material from the archives.

White Squall stood, impassive, before the main doors of Government House supervising the operation, over the horrified protests of the gray-uniformed city archivists.

“You cannot do this,” one wailed.

“Look about you. I have.”

“Removing these records is a crime against history,” said another.

“Is it? I fail to see how. According to your own tracking system—impeccable, I presume—nobody has visited the sector where these manuals and technical papers were stored since they were deposited here, centuries ago. Records that are never referred to are useless.”

“At least let us make copies,” said a lean woman with so much gold braid on her tunic that she could only be the chief archivist. “Our calligraphers are swift. It would not take many months.”

“These records should never have been stored here in the first place,” White Squall said sternly. “They are classified military documents. Obviously, after the fall of Utopia, some city official brought them here to keep them from being destroyed. Commendable, I suppose. But it was also a terrible breach of security, and anybody who was or is party to it must be punished severely.” She fixed the archivists with the bayonet of her glare. “Luckily, you seem not ever to have examined them. So there is no need to kill you.”

This speech would have stopped any ordinary bureaucrats. But not these. A babble of voices arose from the archivists.

Before the situation could turn toxic, Surplus strode forward. “Librarians!” he cried.

Sudden silence. Astonished faces turned toward him.

“I commend you all for the dedication you display toward your holy task. Others may see you as lowly grunts, impersonal drudges, and characterless pedants. I, however, know that I stand in the presence of heroes. You are the defenders of China's culture. Your lives and sacred honor have been dedicated to the preservation of ancient lore not simply so that it may be stowed away and forgotten, as so many presume, but in the same spirit with which an armorer stores and preserves a sword or a cannon: so that it will be available to be used in the time of its nation's greatest need. That time is now! You have unlocked the treasure vault of knowledge in order to put a speedy end to this war. All those who serve the Hidden Emperor are in your debt.” He bowed gracefully, then resumed speaking. “But how shall this debt be repaid? Generals receive medals and statues are raised to politicians. Are their contributions greater than yours? I swear to you that they are not.

“In times of peace, you would be repaid in gold and land. But in times of war, all resources must go to the preservation of the state. Thus, the Hidden Emperor and I cannot honor you as you deserve. However, knowing his will as I do, I have no doubt he will grant me permission to have certificates of commendation written up in his name, one for each of you, expressing his eternal gratitude and by extension that of all his subjects.”

The archivists had grown more and more rapt as they listened. Now they burst into applause. Surplus modestly acknowledged their gratitude, while making a mental note to have White Squall's family members collect a stiff delivery fee for the certificates from each of their recipients.

When he was done, White Squall said to Surplus, “I perceive that you have your uses.”

“I am at your service, great cao.”

“I perceive also that you have something you want to talk about. You see that teahouse over there?” Cao White Squall gestured down the street. “I will meet you there in an hour, after I've gotten this matter squared away.”

*   *   *

“I WISH
to apologize for the words and actions of my…” Surplus hesitated. “Of my fiancée. She had no right whatsoever to imply that I did not accept your negation of my temporary status of military liaison to Peace. It goes without saying that I am horrified that she would think I might wish to challenge your authority.”

White Squall accepted a glass of tea from their servitor and took a thoughtful sip. They two had been given a private room, of course, so they could talk freely. “Will you have her flogged?”

“I do not deny the thought is tempting,” Surplus said with a wry twist of his muzzle. “But it would create more problems than it solved.”

“Your lady seems to be rather a difficult sort of fiancée for you.”

“She is as beautiful and ungovernable as a phoenix,” Surplus said. “Which reminds me. I had been under the impression you were searching for someone called the Phoenix Bride. Yet you seem to have settled for … papers?”

“There is no reason for me to confide in you. Yet my accomplishment today is great, and I have vanity enough to feel the need to boast. In the absence of an appropriate audience for which, I shall have to make do with you. I have accomplished what no one else could have: In these papers, I have found the location of the Phoenix Bride.”

“Congratulations. May I ask where she is to be found?”

“Far to the south, in a cave in a mountain in the city of Fragrant Tree she lies, deep underground and guarded by demons. There they hold her prisoner and there she sleeps, awaiting her rescuer.”

“It sounds like a fairy tale,” Surplus said. “However, this being the real world, one must ask what living with demons would do to the sanity of any human woman and how fit she would be to marry an emperor afterward. Which questions answer themselves: terrible things, and not at all.”

“The Phoenix Bride is not a woman,” White Squall said, “but a warhead.”

“War … head?”

“Would it help if I called it a thermonuclear device?”

“No.”

“Then let me explain.”

White Squall did.

When she was done, Surplus was aghast. “I have heard tales told of such weapons and steadfastly refused to believe them. The destructive capability you describe—surely an exaggeration?”

“One such device,” White Squall said with satisfaction, “could destroy any city in China.”

“Surely, then, after all these years the device would be inoperative.”

“That is quite likely true. Yet I have assembled the best team of engineers and mechanics this sorry age has ever seen. I do not doubt we can repair it.”

“Those demons you mentioned—they would then be the guardian AIs of whatever facility such devices were secured within?”

White Squall smiled and nodded.

Against all better judgment, Surplus found himself saying, “Did they teach you nothing in school about the fall of Utopia? How the artificial minds created to be the servants of mankind, driven mad by their unnatural existence, rebelled against their masters, rose up out of the fabled Internet, and almost destroyed civilization before being driven back in? How they hate us with undying passion and dream of nothing more than our painful and total annihilation? These are
very unpleasant creatures,
madam. I have seen them. I have spoken with them. I have met them face-to-face and wish nothing better than to never do so again. I assure you that you want to have nothing to do with them whatsoever.”

White Squall leaned forward to pat the top of one of Surplus's clenched paws. “Fire Orchid told me you were very sure of yourself. But you need worry about nothing. I am your superior officer, and therefore you may rest assured that all of my decisions are unimpeachably correct.”

 

7.

The virtuous woman has no concern for the actions of others, provided only that they are performed in private, where horses may not be frightened.

—
THE
SAYINGS OF THE
PERFECT
STRATEGIST

“WHY IS
the Perfect Strategist leaving without you? A true friend would be at his side. I think maybe you have a problem with commitment,” Fire Orchid said. She had brought all of her family, seated proudly on their mountain horses and resplendent in new red and gold uniforms, to see Darger off formally, and then immediately turned her back on him to scold Surplus. “If you cannot be loyal to him, how can I expect you to be faithful to me? Our marriage is maybe in trouble, I suspect. I begin to wonder things about you. I ask myself how sincere you were in your declarations of eternal passion that night of our sinful carnality on the mountaintop.” Turning to address Darger, she said, “I am surprised to see you leaving without your most trusted subordinate.”

To Darger's amusement, Surplus was completely at a loss for a reply to this barrage of accusations. Several of the Dog Pack, he noted, were suppressing grins, with varying degrees of success. Little Spider clutched herself with both arms and almost fell from her saddle.

“I was surprised myself,” Darger said wryly.

*   *   *

TWO DAYS
after Surplus and White Squall returned from Peace, the Hidden Emperor (who had assumed his new title the instant he learned of it) ordered his top advisors assembled. The meeting was held somewhere within the labyrinth of tents that served him for housing and headquarters while his armies were on the move. The emperor's face was, as usual, hidden behind scarves and sunglasses. He wore a yellow robe of state whose decorations would have taken the most skilled embroiderers a full month to create, which made Darger suspect that he had long been awaiting the opportunity to effect exactly this self-glorification.

“Well?” the Hidden Emperor said.

Surplus rose to deliver a succinct and ostentatiously modest account of his exploits taking Peace. When he was done, the Hidden Emperor gestured him to sit down again. To Darger's profound disappointment, no word of thanks or mention of reward passed his lips. Noting which, several advisors who had been visibly anxious to report on their own, lesser accomplishments, spontaneously decided to postpone their self-promotion to a later date.

“White Squall?” the Hidden Emperor said.

Like an ice flower blooming in the Arctic wastes, White Squall stood.

“Have you located my beloved for me?”

“Yes, great monarch. The Phoenix Bride is to be found in the Expansive Country, in the city of Fragrant Tree. We have maps determining her precise location.”

“Ah.” The emperor flicked his fingers and White Squall sat. Then, addressing all present, he said, “Advice?”

A greasy-faced nonentity named Permanent Infrastructure stood to declare, “The dear lady must be rescued! Our entire forces should march south to Fragrant Tree immediately to retrieve her.” He descended to his chair again, much in the manner of a tail-standing porpoise sinking back down into the sea.

Ceo Powerful Locomotive shot to his feet. “Ignore that dreadful advice!” He spread a map over the conference table. Repeatedly slamming his fist on the map for emphasis, he said, “Now is the time for us to turn to the east and march down the Long River. The heartland kingdoms did not expect us to take the Land of the Mountain Horses so readily, and so they have not had time to make peace with one another and present a united front against us. Their armies are scattered and their cities unprepared. If we move against them immediately, they can be swiftly overcome. Then, with the heartland conquered, the southern kingdoms will swear fealty to you out of weakness and fear. We can then drive on to the sea, and from there fight our way up along the coast to the city of North, known to the ancients as Beijing. Once it is taken, there will be no stronghold that can stand up to you, and all of China will be yours. That is the case for my plan and it is a strong one. As for the fat idiot's demand that we send our forces on a pointless journey to the south … There is no military reason whatsoever for us to go to Fragrant Tree. None!”

“Then it is a move our enemies cannot anticipate,” Permanent Infrastructure retorted. “We will catch them by surprise.”

“What will surprise the enemy is that we had the opportunity to overrun them and threw it away!”

Prince First-Born Splendor rose gracefully to his feet. “The ceo is right as always. Imperial Majesty, you must listen to him.”

Slowly, the Hidden Emperor turned his head to the prince. Twin disks of dark glass considered him in silence. At last, ominously, he said, “Did I hear you say I ‘must' do something?”