Subterrene War 03: Chimera (42 page)

His face went pale. “
How dare you!
I am the field marshal of the Royal Thai Army, cousin to the King himself.” His aides stood and rested their hands on their pistols. “Leave now, or I’ll have you shot.”

The girls moved. His aides, all colonels, screamed when they found their arms twisted behind their backs and struggled against the satos, who now forced them toward the entrance. When they were gone, I grinned more broadly.

“You’re in my seat,” I repeated.

This time he stood. The general was shorter than I remembered and frail, and he pushed past to follow his men so I could collapse into the vacant seat with a grateful sigh. He turned at the door and spat on the floor.

“This is Thailand. The King will make sure that all of you are hung.”

I nodded. “This
is
Thailand. And the Royal Thai
Army is a disgrace. My forces repelled the first Chinese advance without the benefit of your Army and without air cover or plasma. This is a planning session for war. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable back in Bangkok talking about war rather than participating in it.”

When the general left, the others at the table relaxed. One or two grinned, and the Laotian and Cambodian generals leaned back, laughing.

“The Cambodian,” Lucy whispered, “is General Im, and the Laotian is General Choulamontry.”

Choulamontry spoke first. “Laos and Cambodia have moved an infantry division each onto the line so we can see for ourselves what we’re up against. The remainder of three Army groups are staging now to move in and reinforce. Provided we can agree on how this will work.”

“This is how it works, General.” I lit a cigarette and leaned back in my chair, thanking God that Lucy had briefed me. “The Chinese movement suggests that they plan to take over Thailand and then Laos and Vietnam. Why? Because that way they get access to non-radioactive port cities and the entirety of the South China Sea, which opens the door to the rest of the Pacific while they move on India’s eastern border. So either we ally now and stop them, or you can take your chances later. Alone. Who knows, maybe they don’t care about Laos or Cambodia. Maybe they’ll save you for last.”

A Vietnamese admiral nodded. “It’s true. Our forces have already detected Chinese buildup along our northern border, and their port cities, all of which had been previously abandoned, are now showing activity. We expect an attack within weeks.”

“We,” said the Indian representative, “are already at war.”

“We don’t know anything about their troop strengths,” said General Im. “All we hear are stories from these”—he pointed at Lucy—“
things
that the Chinese have a new kind of genetically engineered soldier, ones that incorporate powered armor.”

I nodded at Lucy, who waved at a pair of
Gra Jaai
. They stepped out and returned a minute later carrying one of the Chinese bodies from the morgue, placing it gently on the table before removing the plastic sheet in which it had been wrapped. Nobody said a word until Im shook his head.

“
You
started this. Americans. You played God and unleashed a horror on the rest of us. What did you think? That you could keep control of these creations, that your secret wouldn’t get out even when you went to war in Kazakhstan? Do you really expect us to give command of Laotian and Cambodian troops to these
Gra Jaai
and their bitches? That we even
want
American forces here?”

I didn’t blame him. It was easy to sympathize with the general’s position, especially since I’d shared it only a week prior. “No. I expect you to hand over command to
me.
I’ll work with you to make sure that Laotian and Cambodian troops are used in the right way and aren’t wasted. And I’m not American, not anymore, and we will not ask for or approve of US assistance in this war, except for any material assistance they’re willing to provide, including fresh genetic troops. But you have to promise me something.”

“Go on,” he said.

“You have to promise me that your men and women won’t break and run like pissy little girls the first time they see a Chinese genetic.”

“What do you know about genetics?” Choulamontry asked. “We don’t know anything about you.”

“I just came back from a mission ten kilometers inside Burma. I killed a Chinese genetic by riding it down a mountain and shoving a thermite grenade into a gap in its armor.”

Lucy stopped translating and said something in rapid Laotian, and I watched as the generals’ eyes went wide, the two of them looking at each other.

“What did you tell them?” I whispered once she’d finished.

“That you single-handedly hunted down and killed over thirty of my sisters and that you did the same using only a knife against Margaret.”

General Im leaned forward and whispered to Choulamontry, then looked at me. “Give us some time. We see your points, and although it will be difficult to convince our leadership to work with Thailand, the threat is imminent and clear. None of us want another war with China, but they must be crushed, once and for all. It will take discussion.”

The hard part was over. Now Lucy and I smoked while the generals and admirals spoke, at times shouting to make themselves heard, and several times I caught the Japanese
Gra Jaai
, especially the women, staring at me. Their eyes snapped forward when I caught them doing it.

“Why are they staring at us?” I asked.

Lucy whispered back. “They are amazed that you killed Margaret. And they are excited.”

“Why?”

“
Because
you killed Margaret. She was their spiritual leader, and many can’t wait to see God’s plan.”

An hour passed and then two. The officers pelted us with questions to the point where I began to tire, and Lucy stopped the debate, noticing that I was starting to fade.

“We need an answer,” I said. “There isn’t time for talking anymore.”

The Laotian glanced at Im, who nodded before smiling. “We agree. Choulamontry and I will begin moving troops immediately, but we’ll have to work out coordinating communications, defensive position, and plans—starting first thing tomorrow. We’re talking about months of preparation; are you sure you can hold the Chinese for that long?”

“We’ll hold them. And our technicians will begin tackling communications and language issues tonight,” I said, trying to hide my relief.

The Philippine admiral spoke up. “Ours and the Malaysian and the Indonesian ships will assist the Vietnamese in defending their territories within the South China Sea. What about the Thai Navy?”

“In one week,” I said. “I’ll have all the Thai armed forces in line, with the King’s full support. Leave that to me.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Im. We stood and nodded at each other before Lucy and I turned to leave. I leaned over and whispered one last question to her.

“You’re sure you can come up with a strategy to deal with all this crap?”

She laughed and nodded. “I told you, Lieutenant. It isn’t up to me now, it’s up to Him.”

“You said I had a meeting with the King in one week. How do you know I’ll even be here?”

“I don’t. But how do we know any of us will be here?”

Lucy left me alone with Jihoon, who lay under a plastic tent like I had. By now the water had soaked my uniform jacket. I pulled up a chair next to his gurney, and it hit me without warning: the mission was over. We’d made it. A feeling of uncertainty settled over me as I realized that the future was empty and that soon I’d have to decide what to do with the rest of my life. Then, without warning, the uncertainty snowballed into terror that made the room shrink, the ceiling promising to collapse with every artillery strike far above, and the air was too hot to breathe, so I had to grab my chair and close my eyes, telling myself that none of it was real. The only option was to stay, to lead the
Gra Jaai,
but who would
want
to do that? Most people would be happy to have survived the things I’d been through and would look forward to retirement after twenty years of service, transitioning from military to civilian service with a grin. But that meant going home to the States. My gut told me that if I did that, it wouldn’t be long before I drank myself to death and Phillip would be on his own.

I opened my eyes again and ducked under the plastic to touch Jihoon’s shoulder.

“Hey, Bug,” he said. “We made it.”

“I guess.” His skin felt cold, and I pulled my hand away, the sensation reminding me of a corpse. “How are you feeling?”

Ji looked up and away from me. “I lost my leg.”

“Yeah, but they can grow you a new one, and to tell you the truth, I might get that genetic work done on my knees; they’ve gotten
that
bad. You saved my ass, Chong. I owe you one.”

“Then tell me what to do. I don’t know if I can handle this job anymore; the tank wasn’t like reality at all, and now that I’ve been in it, I don’t think I have the guts to go on another mission. I’m scared.”

I sighed and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips and then lighting it. I took one too. The smoke started to take the edge off my own fears, softening the pain from my shoulder and making me feel unbelievably tired so that I wanted to tell Jihoon to shove over and make room for me on the bed.

“Don’t
decide
anything,” I said. “You might be scared, but you functioned out there. You killed the enemy before he killed you and made it back, so don’t give me that shit that you don’t have what it takes. If you didn’t, you would have just run and left me to the Chinese.”

Jihoon shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He grinned then and took a long pull from the cigarette. “One of the
Gra Jaai
just stopped by and told me that we’re going home in a few minutes. Momson arrived, and they’ll be taking us out on the rotary wing.”

The news surprised me. I’d thought there’d be more time before his arrival, but discussions with the generals had taken longer than I’d anticipated, and now the feeling of terror returned because I’d have to make a decision.

Ji was staring at me. “You’re not going with us, are you?”

“No. I think I’m staying here.”

“I figured. You’re made for this stuff, Bug. For you to go home would be like trying to teach a gorilla how to dance ballet. Maybe you could do it, but it wouldn’t look pretty. Besides, it’s like I already said. If I didn’t know any better and hadn’t seen your file, I’d say you were a damn sato yourself.”

I laughed. “That’s an insult.”

“Yeah. They’re crazy, the
Gra Jaai
are crazy, but you’re not too sane yourself. What will you tell the brass?”

Lucy returned and lifted the plastic, telling me that Momson had arrived and was waiting for me outside the main entrance; her troops refused to let him enter and had threatened to kill the Special Forces reps who were supposed to have replaced Remorro and Orcola. Two
Gra Jaai
pulled the plastic off Jihoon and prepared to wheel him away.

I shook his hand before he disappeared into the tunnels. “I don’t know what I’ll tell Momson, but I’m about to find out. Take care, Ji.”

“We should go too,” said Lucy. “If you’re leaving, there isn’t much time.”

“Where did they put my things? When they brought me back to the tunnels, the Sunshine data was stored in my kit.”

She cocked her head. “They are in Remorro and Orcola’s quarters. Why?”

“Let’s make a detour so I can get them; Momson can wait.”

Handing over Kristen’s memory chits and the Sunshine data felt wrong, like giving nuclear weapons to a teenager and asking him to be careful. But I wanted Phillip, and I’d already made up my mind: he
was
my son, even if I wasn’t his father. What would America do with the data? The Cambodian general, Im, had been right when he said that once created and fielded, there was no way to prevent an enemy from stealing genetic secrets since all he or she had
to do was capture one of them, dead or alive. On the other hand, although I didn’t want the data anymore, there were nations that would do whatever it took to get it, so by handing it over I’d distance myself from something hideous and dangerous—a distance that would provide some measure of protection. Relief. The only other options were to hold the chits and risk having them stolen or to destroy them and never see my son again. There was really no choice at all.

Momson stood next to a huge rotary wing aircraft, its engines pointed skyward at the end of short wings while the
Gra Jaai
wheeled Jihoon up a ramp and into the plane’s rear. He walked over to us and stuck out his hand. I shook it but wanted to wash mine with lye to make sure that none of him rubbed off on me.

“You did a fantastic job,” Momson said. “We’ll put Jihoon back together so don’t worry, and we’ve gotten over the fact that you killed Margaret.”

“Good.”

Momson squinted and looked me up and down. “What’s with the uniform, Bug?”

“I’m not going back, Momson. I quit. You can take your missions and shove them up your ass.”

Momson didn’t look surprised. He grinned and slung a carbine over his shoulder, glancing around to see the
Gra Jaai
who had gathered to listen.

“What about your son, Bug?”

I nodded. “What about him?”

“You’re going to raise a kid in a war zone? Christ. You had us pull him from the academy because you didn’t want him in the tanks, but now you’re willing to raise him on the front lines where he could get killed for real. You’re just as crazy as these people.”