Chasing the Phoenix, page 14
“A sad observation. Is that not so, White Squall?”
“Yes.”
“You should refill the prince’s cup.”
“No, I have had enough, and perhaps more than I should have.” Prince First-Born Splendor stood, picked up his breastplate, and tucked it under one arm. “I thank you for your hospitality. It is greatly appreciated.”
Then he left. White Squall stared yearningly after him.
“This is your opportunity, cao,” Darger whispered to her. “Seize it with both hands.”
White Squall looked stricken. “I … I have no idea what to do.”
“Are you serious?” Darger took White Squall by the shoulders and shook her. Then, still whispering, he said, “Listen to me: You are to follow Prince First-Born Splendor into his tent and tell him his sorrows move you greatly. Bring the wine! Ask him to tell you more. You will then listen to him sympathetically. You will not interrupt him. You will not offer advice. If he falls silent, ask him about his childhood. If he asks you questions about yourself, answer honestly but briefly. Then turn the conversation back to him. Make it clear that you wish you could ease his pain. Make it evident that you have no idea how to do so. Possibly, you will have ideas on how to do so—do not share them! If he cries, you may hold him and make comforting noises. Further ideas may come into your head—keep them to yourself! If he comes up with an idea or two of his own, however, you may then react as you wish. Have you got all that?”
“I—”
“Then go!” Darger handed White Squall the wine jug, spun her around, and shoved her out of the tent.
When the cao was far enough down the hill that she would not overhear him, Surplus said, “That certainly took long enough. What do mothers teach their daughters these days?”
“White Squall is a half orphan,” Darger explained, “and her father was distant and unaffectionate.”
“Ahhh.”
“That is her version of the story, anyway. My own theory is that she was abandoned at birth and raised by machines.”
* * *
AFTER SO long a separation, Darger and Surplus had a great deal of catching up to do, information to trade, and plans to make. So they stayed in the tent, talking. They had been at it for some time when Capable Servant appeared and said, “Sirs, Fire Orchid, the noble Dog Warrior’s wife, sent me to ask if you have any thoughts on new sources of illegal revenue.”
“Well,” Darger began, “As a matter of fact…”
At which moment, Capable Servant lifted the flap and walked into the tent.
For a heartbeat, the two Capable Servants goggled at one another. Then the newcomer threw his arms about his doppelgänger and cried, “Sirs! You must beat us both immediately. With sticks!”
It took only the briefest of hesitations to understand and to comply. Darger snatched up a broom and applied its handle to both Capable Servants with impartial ferocity. Surplus, meanwhile, laid on them with his cane.
“Harder!” one of the identical servants shouted. The two men rolled and tumbled on the floor beneath a rain of blows.
“Stop!” yelled the other. “Is this the way you treat a faithful retainer?”
At that, Darger and Surplus both turned their attention to the one who had begged them to stop, thrashing the man until he howled with pain. Luckily, the true Capable Servant wore a red shirt, one of Fire Orchid’s family’s castoffs, where the false one’s tunic was drab, so it was easy to distinguish between them.
“Cease immediately!” their victim cried then in a voice deeper and more commanding than Capable Servant’s. “As your superior officer, I command it!” His face warped and twisted, and abruptly Darger and Surplus realized that they were beating Ceo Powerful Locomotive.
Surplus whipped his cane back under his arm and took three quick steps backward, away from this uncanny sight. Darger threw aside his broom, appalled. Capable Servant leaped to his feet, pulling Powerful Locomotive with him, and then, realizing with horror that he and his former twin were still entangled, pushed himself away from the ceo with all his strength.
Powerful Locomotive staggered backward and fell against the central tentpole with a crack of the skull that made all who heard it wince.
He slumped to the ground.
Solicitously, Surplus bent to help his superior to his feet. But the ceo’s eyes remained closed. “Capable Servant,” he said then, “go fetch Vicious Brute immediately. Then Fire Orchid.”
* * *
VICIOUS BRUTE arrived quickly, with Little Spider scurrying after him. The imp darted into the tent before Surplus could order her to stay out. On seeing the prone form of Powerful Locomotive, her eyes opened wide. “Is he dead?”
“No,” Surplus said. “But I need to move the ceo out of here without anybody seeing it done. Vicious Brute, you must surely have had abundant experience disposing of bodies. Your expertise in this matter should prove invaluable.”
Vicious Brute coughed into his fist. “Well, sir … to tell you the truth, sir … the need never came up before this.”
“You could cut him into pieces,” Little Spider suggested. “Then carry him out in boxes.”
“To clarify matters,” Surplus said testily, “not only is Powerful Locomotive not dead, but I sincerely wish him to remain alive.”
“Oh,” Little Spider said, disappointed.
Darger, meanwhile, was kneeling by Powerful Locomotive’s body. He had already checked the man’s breathing and pulse and placed a hand on his forehead to see if he had a fever or chills. Now he removed his jacket and folded it to make a pillow for the man’s head. Finally, standing, he said, “Well, this explains a lot.”
“Not to me,” Little Spider said.
“I also am confused,” Vicious Brute admitted.
“We all knew that Powerful Locomotive was a face dancer. White Squall once told me he was raised to be a spy. The package of genetic improvements to give him flexible plates in his skull and fine control over his facial muscles would be an obvious birth gift for doting parents to bestow upon such a child. But he made us think it was a skill he did not knowingly employ. His loudly proclaimed distaste for deceit was itself a deceit, allowing him to wander unsuspected about the camp and learn firsthand the quality of morale and the fitness of its soldiers. So much is obvious. Only … why would he wish to spy on us, who have always served him so faithfully?”
Fire Orchid burst into the tent. At the sight of the fallen ceo, her eyes narrowed and her hair turned slowly black. Then, addressing Darger, she said, “This had better mean that my husband is getting a big promotion.”
Involuntarily, Darger smiled. “That is entirely possible. First, however, he must avoid being executed for assaulting a superior officer. As must we all. Which means that we must immediately move Powerful Locomotive out of this tent, so that he may be discovered elsewhere.”
“It would be easier if he were dead,” Fire Orchid observed.
“That’s what I said,” Little Spider threw in.
“It would also be safer. Who knows what lies he might tell about my husband when he comes to?”
“Nobody is being murdered today. With the possible exception of enemy combatants. And even then, not by us. Now give me a moment to think.” Darger stroked his chin. “I have it. We’ll throw a drinking party for the Dog Pack.”
“Hurrah!” Little Spider cried.
“All except you, Little Spider,” Surplus said. “Adults only.”
Whenever she was feeling indignant, Little Spider screwed up her face so that she looked like a pug. “I’m old enough to do bad things. I’ll have you know that I’ve already—”
Raising a paw to cut her off, Surplus said, “Your father is Vengeful Ox, is he not?”
“Um … yes?”
“He is my fourth in command, and as such I must confide in him all matters which he would consider important to know. Reflect on that for a moment and then, if you wish, finish your statement.”
Little Spider glowered, but said nothing.
“I’ll let you be the decorating committee. We’ll need as many colored lanterns as you can find.”
* * *
ONE HOUR was not long for a convincing drinking party, but both Darger and Surplus felt it important that Powerful Locomotive be handed over to proper medical personnel as quickly as possible. Anyway, the Dog Pack had built up a reputation as hard drinkers that, though every bit as undeserved as their reputation as warriors, was widely believed throughout the camp. So, after crowding into Darger’s tent and toasting the Perfect Strategist’s return and health many times, it became possible for them to leave looking convincingly drunk.
Darger, who had but sipped from a single cup of wine and then set it aside, bade them farewell and then left to look in on his erstwhile traveling companions from the trip to Fragrant Tree to see if they had settled in well and ask whether they were in need of anything. That this would establish a whereabouts for him when Powerful Locomotive was discovered was anything but coincidental.
The Dog Pack, meanwhile, roved drunkenly through the camp. In the center of the group was Powerful Locomotive, held up on one side by Vicious Brute and on the other by Surplus. Since he was dressed in servant’s clothing, a dish towel thrown over his head rendered him completely unrecognizable.
Staggering and reeling, the group made its way to the woods at the edge of camp. There, the males separated from the females and, with a certain amount of off-color badinage shouted back and forth, went off to pee en masse in the shrubbery. That service done (for they knew there would be investigators), Powerful Locomotive’s body was laid down carefully in a bed of ferns not far away. Then, after a certain amount of trampling about, Vengeful Ox discovered the body. “Look!” he cried. “Over here! See what I have found!”
With shouts of amazement and cries for help, Powerful Locomotive was raised from the forest floor and carried hurriedly back to camp. Shortly thereafter, he was hospitalized and all was, for the moment, well.
* * *
SINCE IT was established by multiple reliable testimonies that he was elsewhere at the time and nowhere near the woods in the hours leading up to the discovery of Powerful Locomotive’s body, Darger was free to sit on the board of inquiry the next day. He was careful to take an active and impartial part in the questioning.
“We have heard testimony,” Darger said to Vicious Brute toward the end of the hearing, “that one of your number was so drunk he had to be carried. Yet no one seems to remember who. Do you have any comment?”
“Well, sir. It’s possible that may have been me,” Vicious Brute admitted.
“No, you were seen holding this fellow up.”
“It might have been Vengeful Ox.”
“It was he who found the body.”
“Oh, that’s right. I remember him shouting. But I don’t remember passing out, so whoever it was, it probably wasn’t me.”
“I see. No further questions.”
After lengthy deliberation, it was found that, unfortunately, all the milling about that the Dog Pack had done upon discovery of the badly beaten ceo had obliterated any physical evidence of how Powerful Locomotive had come to be lying in a bed of ferns, the number of his assailants, or anything else that might have proved useful for the investigators to know. So a finding of inconclusivity was declared.
Then Powerful Locomotive’s physicians were called in.
There were five doctors in attendance upon the ceo. Four stood by silently while their chief, Cautious Graybeard, reported on his condition.
“Ceo Powerful Locomotive can be revived,” the doctor said judiciously. “But in cases like this, it often occurs that the trauma of revival will wipe all his recent memories from him. There are means of ensuring that he will awaken with his memory intact; however, they require his being maintained in a medical coma for at least a month. How important is it for you to know how he came to be beaten?”
“It is vital,” White Squall said.
Prince First-Born Splendor nodded judiciously. “Whoever dared raise his hand against the ceo must be found, questioned under torture, and then publicly executed in as vivid and memorable a fashion as possible. So that it may serve as a deterrent to future crimes.”
“I disagree,” Darger said. “The conduct of the war is more important than indulging our appetite for idle gossip. What does it benefit us to learn that the ceo had an assignation for deviant sex that went catastrophically wrong or was waylaid by the brother of a peasant woman he had violated, when it leaves us with no chief executive officer? We must revive Ceo Powerful Locomotive immediately.”
Off to the far corner of the tent, Capable Servant made an excited noise. All heads turned to face him. He blushed and said, “My sincerest apologies, great lords, for interrupting you. I had a good thought—but it was not worth interrupting your learned discourse. I shall say no more.”
“A good thought knows no rank,” First-Born Splendor said. “It arises where it will, even from the mouths of servants. Tell us your idea.”
“There is a woman, great prince, in a village outside the city of Brocade, known as the Infallible Physician. Her skill in medicine far exceeds that of any other doctor alive. Surely she will be able to revive Ceo Powerful Locomotive swiftly and with all his memories in pristine condition.”
“That is indeed a good thought, and I believe that we should act upon it,” First-Born Splendor said.
“Nevertheless,” Darger insisted, “that still leaves us leaderless. It is essential that we resurrect Powerful Locomotive immediately. Who else but he is capable of commanding our armies?”
“We have you—and are you not, after all, the Perfect Strategist? Have not all your schemes worked? I have complete confidence in your abilities,” said White Squall. Coloring slightly, she added, “I have seen you work miracles.”
“That is so,” First-Born Splendor said. “Further, you have won battles and taken cities without the loss of life. Such consideration of the Hidden Emperor’s citizens to be is an admirable quality in a commander.”
“But—” Darger began.
Permanent Infrastructure leaped to his feet. “I propose that the Perfect Strategist be named acting chief executive officer by acclaim. Further, that upon our so doing, the decision be presented to the Hidden Emperor for his approval. Which I am certain he will not withhold. Lastly, that tomorrow, the Perfect Strategist shall take command of the armies and lead them into battle against the forces that are even now assembling to defend the Three Gorges capital city of Crossroads.”
As one, everybody but Darger rose to their feet, roaring approval.
* * *
WORD THAT Darger had assumed command of the armies—the Hidden Emperor’s approval was universally deemed a technicality—went through the camp in a flash. All the way back to his tent, he had to endure the fervent congratulations of those of high enough rank to dare offer them and cheers from the rank-and-file soldiers who knew better than to get too personal. He gave no outward acknowledgment of any of this, however. Which filled his wake with awed gossip about the greatness of his humility.
Once in his tent, however, he turned to Surplus and said, “Oh, bloody hell.”
“You should feel honored. In the military, a field promotion is the sincerest form of flattery.”
“Have you forgotten?” Darger said. “I am not a real strategist.”
“No, but you are something better—a man of penetrating intellect who has not been brainwashed by conventional wisdom. One who sees the world for the fraud that it is. You have proved yourself the natural superior of businessmen and royalty. Surely you can do the same in the sphere of military command?”
“I will not be consoled.” Darger accepted a cup of tea from an outstretched tray. “And you, Capable Servant!”
“Sir?
“It was rare good fortune that in the early part of your struggle, the lion’s share of our blows fell on Powerful Locomotive, rather than you.”
“I am grateful that you think so, sir!”
“Suspiciously good fortune.”
“Oh! Sir! You would not suspect me of laboring to make the blows fall on the man I knew was an imposter and not the real me?” Capable Servant’s expression was more sincere than any honest man’s could be, and there was a twinkle in his eye.
“Of course not,” Darger said sourly.
9.
As the Drunken Sage commanded, Never offer to fight an opponent on level ground.
—THE SAYINGS OF THE PERFECT STRATEGIST
UNDER THE new strategy, progress down the river was necessarily faster than it had been before because, rather than subjugate the towns and cities, the Hidden Emperor’s forces simply bypassed them. Sometimes they marched directly through the smaller towns, whose inhabitants invariably fled from the terror of the Spider Corps and other nightmare weaponry from the distant past. By order of the Perfect Strategist, no looting was allowed, though much worth seizing was left behind. In this way their progress was not slowed by undisciplined behavior. Also, it was hoped that the citizens who returned to find their wealth unplundered would be more inclined to submit peaceably to the Hidden Emperor’s rule after he had taken their capital.
Soon enough, all that stood between the invading forces and Crossroads was the massed military strength of Three Gorges, encamped before it.
On his first meeting with Powerful Locomotive’s command staff, Darger could tell immediately from their expressions and body language that they were deeply conflicted in their feelings about him, in equal parts awed by his reputation and resentful of it.
Without preamble, Darger sat down at the map table and said, “I have been away. Tell me about the forces we will face.”
“To begin,” General Bronze Hammer said, “Three Gorges is a nation of wizards.”
“Wizards?”
“The central lands are highly developed in the biological sciences. Our soldiers being simple people from a provincial kingdom with no great prowess in genetic manipulation, we must take into account the fact they will have a superstitious fear of some of the enemy’s weapons and tactics.”
