Chasing the Phoenix (40 page)

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Authors: Michael Swanwick

BOOK: Chasing the Phoenix
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“I understand completely,” Darger said soothingly.

“I must get back to the ceo's side.” General Powerful Locomotive started away. Then he stopped and jabbed a finger at Darger. “Don't meddle with my private life anymore until I figure out what I want. Understand?”

Gazing after him, Darger murmured to himself, “It will be a pleasure.”

*   *   *

“I CANNOT
find Prince First-Born Splendor!” White Squall said through her tears. Mere minutes had passed since Darger had left Powerful Locomotive's presence.

“That is hardly my concern.” Darger did not slacken his pace.

“We had an argument yesterday, and he disappeared. I haven't seen him since. But I've spoken to the Hidden Emperor, and he has postponed his wedding to the Phoenix Bride, which was the cause of our rupture. So it's important that I see First-Born Splendor as soon as possible.”

“Madam. You multiply obligations upon me daily and without recompense, as yesterday you had the grace to acknowledge, and on your behalf I have done my utmost. But I draw the line at being your social secretary and your would-be paramour's minder.” Darger came to his tent, paused at the door flap, and said, “You misplaced him and therefore you must find him yourself.” He went inside.

Inevitably, White Squall followed him. So they both saw Prince First-Born Splendor at the same time. He was sprawled on a camp stool with his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

He had obviously been drinking.

“Oh, bloody hell!” Darger exclaimed.

Tentatively, White Squall said, “Perhaps I can…”

“No!” Grabbing her arm, Darger turned the cao away from her beloved and hustled her outside again before the prince could look up and see her. “You do not wish him to know that you have seen him at his lowest and most vile. Men are as self-conscious as cats, and he would hold it against you forever.” It was an argument that few women would have fallen for. But then White Squall was no ordinary woman. “Go back to your tent. I will plumb the causes of the prince's dissipation and send him to you when I have sobered him up.”

Inside again, Darger found that First-Born Splendor had roused himself from his torpor and was peering vaguely about. “I thought I heard…” the prince said.

Darger put his hands on his hips. “I am hardly a Jacobin, sir, but in your present state I must say that you present a strong case against hereditary royalty.”

Prince First-Born Splendor clutched his head and moaned. “I am a regicide. An assassin! I, who was born to greatness and raised to be the glory of my line, have fallen as low as it is possible to go.”

“You killed no one. Save for the poor fellows who fell before you on the field of battle, of course.”

One royal hand went weakly up in the air to make a small, dismissive wave. “They knew their chances. As did I. The game went to the better man, that's all. As for my culpability in the emperor's death, my ethics instructors taught me that, morally, there is no distinction to be made between the intent and the deed.”

“There is every distinction to be made. I myself have from youth intended to be unspeakably wealthy—and yet I am not. Were things as easy as you make them out to be, every peasant would be a king and we'd all die for want of anybody to provide us with food.”

“I … I don't think I can follow your logic.”

“Come with me.” Darger hauled the prince to his feet and automatically looked about for Capable Servant. Then, remembering, he dug through his kit himself until he came up with a purple bottle, half-filled with a heavy liquid. “You're making a trip to the jakes.”

The latrine was not far. Outside its door, Darger gave Prince First-Born Splendor the bottle. “Drink a good slug of this. It's an anti-intoxicant. You're not going to enjoy the results, I fear. It will open the sluice gates at both ends. But I can't talk to you when you're in this beastly condition.”

Some ten minutes of spectacular noises later, the latrine door opened. Prince First-Born Splendor emerged, pale and sober.

Darger clapped him on the shoulder. “Feeling more sensible now? That's a good chap. Let's go to my tent and talk.”

Over glasses of pear nectar, they conversed. The prince once again gave extravagant speech to his guilt. Darger heard him out and said, “An emperor is but a man, whose life is worth no more than yours or mine.”

“This one was a girl.”

“A woman, then. My point remains. The Hidden Emperor's life was shortened by exactly one day, remember. Meanwhile, we live. That in itself is a net gain. But so do every soldier under your command, plus the Immortals, including the Yellow Sea Alliance divisions, and every man, woman, and child in North, who would otherwise have died in a madwoman's holocaust. So does the woman you love. The woman who also loves you, I should add, inexplicable though that fact now seems.”

Prince First-Born Splendor buried his head in his hands. “If only she were here.”

“No woman wants to nurse a man through the darkest moment of his life,” Darger lied. He then compounded the untruth by adding, “She wants a man she can look up to for moral guidance, one she can rely on to always tell her what to do.”

“So I was always told by the teachers in my father's court,” Prince First-Born Splendor said. “Yet there were times when White Squall and I were particularly close, and it did not seem to me then that she was looking for anything of the sort.”

“That is a matter you must settle with the lady herself. Square your shoulders, sir. Take a deep breath. Now go to her. Put on a brave face. Speak not a word about last night's deeds. Say only that you were distraught at the prospect of losing her. Do you understand? Good. Off you go.”

Prince First-Born Splendor left, looking as if he might burst into tears at the mere fact of seeing White Squall again. Which, Darger reflected, might well be the best thing in the world for the both of them.

He flung himself down on the camp stool and rummaged through his kit again looking for his pocket flask but could not find it. Then he heard a rustling noise, and Little Spider crawled under the canvas into his tent.

“Prince First-Born Splendor drank all your alcohol,” she said.

More amused than offended, Darger said, “What are you doing here, you imp?”

“I was spying on the prince. For practice. Why did you tell him all that nonsense about what women want?”

“Because, dear urchin, it is my policy, in the absence of any reason to do otherwise, to always tell the mark whatever he wants to hear. I reassured the prince that the world was as he expected it to be, and that gave him the courage to seek out White Squall. Perhaps now that their defenses are down, they can work out an understanding between them.”

“What if they don't?”

“In that case, it successfully got him out of my tent. So I am still ahead of the game.”

*   *   *

AT THE
Council of the Three Ceos, as history would later call it, the new Hidden Emperor's first act was to hear out Shrewd Fox's plans for the assault on North and to assure himself that his stenographers were writing down her every word.

“We have just enough of Cao White Squall's machines remaining operative,” the ceo said, “to create a breach of the city walls. By carefully choosing the location”—she touched the model at a spot their spies reported to be poorly defended, though a major avenue ran by it, allowing ingress to the center of the city—“we can have our soldiers inside before North can properly respond. The loss of men I estimate at a few hundred, most from a frontal assault on the Gate of Eternal Stability to distract the defenders. Acceptable. Once inside, our forces will have three main objectives: to control that section of the wall so that further troops may enter, to attack and seize the armory, and to project arsonists into the poorest and most crowded parts of the city. This will not only create confusion but…”

She went on for a great while. Then the Hidden Emperor called for questions. There were quite a few of these, and the stenographers copied them down along with all of Shrewd Fox's cogent replies.

“Do you have a backup plan if the wall cannot be breached?” Ceo Laughing Raven asked.

“Will there be sufficient medical facilities for the wounded?” Ceo Nurturing Clouds wanted to know.

“The Dog Pack will guard the portable bridge, of course,” Surplus threw in.

To this last, Shrewd Fox said simply, “No.” Of the medical facilities, she replied that their field clinics would be sufficient for the day and that the hospitals of North would be available on the morrow and beyond. But to the first question, she offered six different backup plans contingent upon ways the original plan might fail, with each plan branching into several contingencies of its own should further difficulties arise. It was a dazzling presentation, and when it was finally done, every advisor in the room, Darger alone excepted (but he nodded approvingly), broke into spontaneous applause.

Then the pretend emperor moved on to his second objective, which was to send Shrewd Fox and Powerful Locomotive packing. This he achieved by exclaiming, “Excellent! Perfect! None better! You and General Powerful Locomotive are to be most highly commended. You may, in the morning, take command of your most trusted subordinates, a hundred of my finest soldiers, and as many boats as needed. Go directly back to Three Gorges and organize the armies remaining there.”

Astonished murmurs rose from every part of the room.

Stunned, Ceo Shrewd Fox said, “Majesty?”

“Your work here is done. But the southern nations of China remain unconquered. In my compassion for them, I am eager that they should be part of the resurrected nation as quickly as possible.”

“While … while I am thankful for Your Majesty's guidance, I must object.”

Powerful Locomotive leaped to his feet. “Great Monarch! Deign to listen!”

When the new Hidden Emperor held up his hand for silence, Darger stepped forward from the shadows, where he had been lurking, to stand behind him. He raised one hand and lightly touched the emperor's chair. “But there is more,” the supposed emperor said. “In recognition of your unparalleled brilliance, I am giving you the most valuable thing that even an emperor can bestow—the title of Perfect Strategist. Wear it well as you conquer the southern lands for me.”

Shrewd Fox looked as startled as Darger felt. “Wouldn't that confuse me with…?” she began to say. Then a knowing look bloomed on her face. “I see. I see. Yes, I shall take my new identity and use it to terrify all the unsubjugated regions of China the Great into accepting your just and merciful rule.”

General Powerful Locomotive started to speak. But Ceo Shrewd Fox hit him hard enough that nothing came out. “As does my second-in-command,” she said firmly. Then she turned to Darger and bowed a fraction of an inch, as if to acknowledge that he had won. “We shall leave Your Majesty's armies in the capable hands of the original Perfect Strategist.” With a sidelong glance at her underling, she added, “As is best.”

“Yes,” General Powerful Locomotive said reluctantly. “I don't understand why, but if you say so, then perhaps it is for the best.”

The Hidden Emperor stood. “I thank you for your advice. You may all leave now.” Adding, however, “Perfect Strategist, Dog Warrior … you will stay, for I wish to speak with you in private.”

*   *   *

WHEN THERE
were only they three in the room, Capable Servant removed his mask and, smiling, said, “Did I do well, masters? My imitation of the Hidden Emperor, I mean. It was good, I hope?”

“It was a little…” Surplus began.

Angrily, Darger said, “What in the name of all that's holy did you think you were doing, giving away my title?”

“Was that not what you wanted, sir? To be free of a burdensome reputation?”

“It was what I
said
I wanted. But men say many things they don't mean. My title was not only burdensome but useful as well. It carried a great deal of prestige.”

“Do not worry, sir. As well as being emperor, I am still your servant. Simply tell me what you want—money, titles, land—and it is yours.”

“Indeed,” Darger said. “Well. That does rather put things into perspective.” For a long moment, he was silent. Then he said, “Did you hear that rumbling sound in the distance? There's a lightning storm coming, I think. I must leave now, for I have business to attend to and a certain personage to interrogate.”

*   *   *

THE STORM
that had been threatening all day broke just as Darger left camp. His ride through the driving rain took over an hour, even on a mountain horse. But at last he came to his destination, the rusting remains of an iron bridge left over from the Utopian era and locally known to suffer from ghosts. “Stay,” he told his skittish mount. “I may be some time.”

“Hhho hhno!” Buttercup said. “Hhaawful!”

“We must all do our duty. Yours is to stand and wait.”

The rain had abated somewhat. Darger walked out onto the uncertain surface of the bridge, riddled with weak spots and missing beams, to its center, where he intended to have a long conversation with one of the rumored “ghosts.”

The waters below roiled and tumbled against the bridge piers, just as the clouds above roiled and tumbled in the sky, giving the air a fresh, ionized bite. Perhaps this was where the abomination got its energy from, marginal though it was. It took the form of a white smear in the air, flickering like St. Elmo's fire but in outline too indistinct to be clearly seen. Its voice was as weak as a mosquito's whine, but Darger had no difficulty understanding the creature's words.

old enemy we meet again …

old enemy we meet again …

old enemy we meet again …

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