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Authors: Michael Swanwick

BOOK: Chasing the Phoenix
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For a long time, Darger studied the map in silence. Long after any other man would have been expected to look up, he pondered.

“Sir?”

Darger held up a hand in silence. Granite-faced, he pondered more. Up and down the conference table, generals looked at one another. Until at last, when even the orderlies must surely be wondering if he were about to explode in rage, Darger exclaimed, “What an extraordinary coincidence! Your plan is exactly the same as mine!”

“It … is?” General Bronze Hammer said.

“Yes. Except that where you are merely hopeful of its outcome, I know for a mathematical certainty that it will succeed.”

*   *   *

BACK IN
his tent, Darger threw himself heavily into a chair and said, “I have made my pact with the devil, Sir Plus. Our path now lies through hell. Alas, for a leader and navigator, you have only me.”

“You undervalue yourself, Aubrey,” Surplus said. “In what way is a general or even a ceo superior to a practitioner of the confidential arts? How is his task any different? Both are charged with relieving strangers of that which they do not wish to relinquish—cash in our case, territory in the general's. For the duration of the sting, all laws of moral conduct are suspended. And in the end, the prize must surely go to he who can keep his head in a moment of crisis. Which, if history is any guide, must inevitably be you. Think but of the nation of Three Gorges as an unwary mark, and victory will surely be ours.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Capable Servant said, “Oh, sir! Have I not said that heaven smiles upon you? I have seen this proved a hundred times. There is no chance that you will not triumph.”

*   *   *

NEVERTHELESS, DARGER
did not sleep well that night. When at last he heard the jingle of harnesses and the thump of mountain-horse feet outside his tent, he leaped from his cot and, refusing Capable Servant's help, quickly dressed himself.

Little Spider stood by the tent flap, holding Buttercup's reins. Climbing into the saddle, Darger said to his mount, “Well, my friend, we ride to war today.”

Turning its head, the mountain horse nudged Darger with its beak.

Bleakly amused, Darger said, “You appear to be looking forward to the experience.”

“Yahhh!” Buttercup tossed its head up and down.

“I wish I could say as much.” Gesturing for everyone to gather in as close as their mounts would allow, Darger quietly addressed the Dog Pack. “I have made you my bodyguard today for a reason. It is possible we will win this battle, and if we do there is no problem. But it is equally possible we will lose. In which case, we can confidently expect our own forces to seize and slay us all. Thus, should fortune turn against us, we must be prepared to flee at a moment's notice. Is that understood?”

Even in the dim predawn light, it was startling how bright Fire Orchid's hair shone. “My family knows how to cut and run,” she said. “Better yet, we know
when
to cut and run. Stay with us and we will keep you safe.”

“Hhyess!”

With a little bow, Surplus said, “Your army awaits.”

Surrounded by his new guard and experiencing an all-too-familiar mixture of dread and self-doubt, Darger rode toward the assembled forces. He felt a tremendous pity for all those who would be maimed or killed today. Some of them would be known to him. All would be far too young.

Yet as Darger made his way through the gray ranks of men, animals, and machines arrayed for battle, a strange elation rose up within his breast. Today he would be what he had impersonated so many times before: a man of action. He would face danger and even death, but he would also be deploying thousands of soldiers, directing their actions, playing the game of life and death for the highest of stakes against an antagonist who, it was generally agreed, was of the first water. The dread did not go away, but now it was infused with an eagerness to get down to business.

The Dog Pack moved through the silent lines of infantry, then cavalry, and finally the shock troops riding White Squall's terror weapons. At the front, Darger was greeted with taciturn solemnity by his fellow commanders.

“Will you make a speech?” General Bronze Hammer asked.

Darger nodded. So Cao White Squall had her driver wheel her backhoe about, allowing him to climb atop its scoop. Slowly, he was raised into the air, where all the assembled thugs, ruffians, and patriots in the Hidden Emperor's army could see him. He looked over their upturned faces and felt their hopes and fears flowing into him, filling him with energy. His school years back in England, studying the classics of British rhetoric, returned to him in that instant, and, inspired, he spread his arms.

“Who here would be immortal?” Darger thundered. “I tell you that not one of you standing before me today shall die. For those who today live will prosper and those who do not will be kept alive forever in the memories of their grateful nation for generation upon generation, even unto eternity.

“I am not covetous for gold, rich garments, the trappings of wealth. My only desire is to serve my emperor. My only pride is my humility in so doing. Yet in one way am I greedy, and that is in my desire that all the world shall know I did my duty. Today I will fight and bleed alongside my children—for you are all as dear as sons and daughters to me—and were you not beloved of me, I would resent your presence for diluting the glory I will earn this day.

“But this glory will be shared among us as equals, and those who outlive this battle and come home safe will in their old age hold feast on this day, pull up blouses to show their scars, and demand their grandchildren hear well-worn stories told one more time. Then gentlefolk who are now asleep in Peace, Brocade, and Fragrant Tree will curse themselves they were not here. We few … we happy few … we band of brothers…” Darger paused, searching for new words, and then, for lack of anything better, cried at the top of his lungs, “
Come on, you apes! Do you want to live forever?

A world-encompassing shout went up from the assembled masses. The backhoe operator began to lower its scoop, and, halfway down, Darger leaped nimbly off. To General Celestial Beauty, standing nearby, he said, “Quickly now. Let us advance, before these fools come to their senses.”

Commands were bellowed and instructions relayed. The grumbling of motors rose to a roar, and with a grinding of gears and the thundering of drums the army lurched forward. Darger rode at their head. He was almost certain that real generals led from behind. But he intended to begin by looking heroic, and then fall back when the enemy came in sight.

But when the city of Crossroads loomed up before them, no army was visible arrayed before it. Darger squinted, trying to make the shadows resolve into men, and could not. He saw only a scattering of scouts, mounted on swift steeds, speeding toward him.

“What the devil is going on?” he muttered and, holding up an arm, commanded the army to begin the slow and awkward process of coming to an unexpected halt. Motionless, he awaited the coming tidings.

It was not long before, galloping up on lathered horses that had been ridden half to death, the scouts arrived to inform him that, during the night, the enemy had struck camp and retreated, leaving Crossroads undefended and its gates wide open.

*   *   *

THEIR SCOUTS
having gone into the city and returned to report it free of soldiers, Darger saw no option but to enter. Leaving her war machines idling outside, Cao White Squall joined him and the Dog Pack as they approached the gate. “Can Ceo Shrewd Fox be employing the Empty City stratagem?” she said wonderingly. “It makes no sense—but neither does the alternative.”

Darger said nothing. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Surplus surreptitiously nudge Fire Orchid. Who in turn trotted her mountain horse closer to the cao and said, “Pardon my ignorance, Cao White Squall. I can see that my husband and the Perfect Strategist understand you perfectly. But … what is this strategy you speak of?”

“During the Three Kingdoms period, the great general Zhuge Liang, who was renowned for his many tricks and stratagems, had to hold a city with only a few troops against a vastly superior army. So he had the city gates flung open and the square behind them swept clean. All the flags were taken down and the people ordered indoors and told to maintain silence. When the enemy arrived, they were astonished to find the city undefended and sent in scouts. The scouts in turn entered the city to find the square empty and no sign of life anywhere. Save for Zhuge Liang, who sat in a balcony, playing a stringed instrument. He gave no sign of having seen them, though how could he not?

“When the scouts reported this uncanny scene to their commander, he ordered his army to turn away from the city. For, knowing Zhuge Liang's reputation, he could only assume that it was a trap—and one that he dared not fall into.”

“I see.”

“But that situation does not apply here. Three Gorges had a mighty army in place. Shrewd Fox, though famed, is no Zhuge Liang. And we are not turning back.”

They passed through the city gate. The flagpoles, Darger noted, were empty. The buildings around the courtyard were silent. Nothing moved within their windows.

At the far end of the courtyard, standing so still as to be all but unnoticeable, were a dozen of the least threatening human beings Darger had ever seen in his life. They were soft and pudgy, with round faces and bright pink cheeks. To a man and a woman—but one had to look closely to see which was which—they were smiling.

The party crossed the plaza. At the last minute, Darger drew up his mountain horse and stared sternly down at the dozen. “Identify yourselves!” he commanded.

“We are the joyous ones, come to hand over control of the city to you, sirs,” their chief said.

“The what?”

“Our imaginative faculties have been suppressed, leaving us incapable of disobedience or dishonesty. This makes us perfect functionaries. We will do what we are told because we cannot envision an alternative. We speak only the truth because we are not inventive enough to lie. I am told that some find us too literal-minded. But I do not understand what they mean by that.”

“Such an existence must be very trying for you,” White Squall observed.

“On the contrary, noble lady. I eat exactly the same meal three times a day every day of the year because it is cheap and nutritious and I do not tire of it because I cannot imagine wanting something else. A similar logic applies to all aspects of my life from clothing to shelter, and so I am invariably happy with what I have.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“We run all functions of the city government, save only decision making. You have but to tell us what you want done, and we will make it so.”

“But you lack the imagination to convert an abstract order into practical action,” Surplus objected.

“We have regulations covering all possibilities, sir. Many, many regulations.”

“Were you ordered to report to us?” Darger asked.

“Of course, sir. It would not occur to us to take such action on our own.”

“Who ordered you?”

“Ceo Shrewd Fox, sir.”

“Why?”

The round little woman beamed. “I have no idea, sir.”

*   *   *

TRUE TO
their word, the joyous ones made all the resources of Crossroads available to their conquerors. Cloth was produced to make new uniforms and repair old tents; luxurious housing was provided for the Hidden Emperor and his staff and advisors; rope and fodder and foodstuffs in abundance appeared from seemingly bottomless stores. When, however, Darger requested gold, silver, precious gems, or the like, they patiently explained that all such items had been placed in escrow and would not be available until a full month had passed. “But then,” one of the interchangeable joyous ones said, “as much of it as you require is yours. Upon receipt of the properly signed and notarized forms, of course.”

More worrisome was that Crossroads also contained an abundance of ammunition and small arms, none of which was withheld from its conquerors. In short order, the city arsenal was able to replace all that had been expended seizing their nation.

“It makes no military sense at all,” Darger said to Surplus in his new office in Yellow Crane Tower. “Even I can see that. The massed strength of Three Gorges have ceded their capital to us when they had every reason to hope they could defend it. They have given us control of half their territory, though it would have cost us dearly to seize it. They left behind valuable resources which they could easily have destroyed. This is not sensible. There is some trick behind it.”

“I agree. But what?”

“I'm sure we'll find out. In the meantime, I fear that Ceo Shrewd Fox is living up to her name.”

“Speaking of names…” Surplus said. “Capable Servant! Pour two glasses of wine. No, make that three, and keep one for yourself. I wish to toast the Perfect Strategist.”

Surprised, Darger said, “Whatever for?”

“My dear friend,” Surplus said, “have you failed to notice that you have just conquered your first city?”

*   *   *

THE HIDDEN
King was, presumably, closeted with his Phoenix Bride, for he issued no orders and held no meetings. Meanwhile, Powerful Locomotive remained in a coma and White Squall's attention was divided between her machines and her new lover, Prince First-Born Splendor. Which meant that for all practical purposes, Darger was in charge of both the army and the city that it now held. Yet in all the ways that mattered most, he found it an exasperating experience. In a dusty room filled with bland, pink-cheeked nonentities, he was told that, yes, he could impose a tax upon the citizens of Crossroads to pay for the costs of conquering them—but that it would not take effect for another thirty days. Yes, it was possible to borrow money from the city treasury, to be repaid by the proposed tax—but the money would not be payable until a full month had passed. Valuable items could indeed be confiscated from the wealthy—but they would be kept in storage for four weeks while the paperwork went through the proper channels. All these strictures they were only too happy to present for examination from their endless shelves of bound regulations.

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