“They’ll do, for a start. The others will show you how to blend them into a pole-dance routine. And work out how you can lose your robes in the process.”
“Oh.” Now Maion really was taken aback.
“Come along, I’ll take you to see Charmeine-Lan. She’s in charge of the dancers.”
Charmeine-Lan was in the costume room, making sure the next set of dancers were properly costumed. Michael introduced Maion to her and left them to get on with business. As soon as he’d gone, Charmeine-Lan put her wing comfortingly around Maion. “It’s no big thing, really. All you have to do is do your dance when scheduled. Just remember, don’t let go of the pole when you’re dancing, its there for your safety. Hang on to it in case somebody tries to pull you off the stage. It’s never happened and if somebody tries, security will deal with them. Apart from that, remember to keep to schedule, be down to skin and feathers by the end of the allocated time. Don’t over-run and never under-run. Keep an eye on the stage manager, that’s me, and if I tell you to slow down or speed up, then do so. Sometimes we have problems and I’ll need you to cover a gap or something. Do that well and you’ll get a lot of extra credit. After the show, you’ll meet up with the customers on the floor. Socialize with them, if they want you to, you can do a little private dance for them, up close, its called a lap dance. All the girls earn a lot of money that way, more than enough to pay for your habit. Finally, some of the customers will want to take you to the rooms upstairs.”
“No!” Maion was horrified.
“Yes, Maion. You’ll do it and like it.” Charmeine-Lan’s voice was harsh and relentless. “You’ve got a habit, you’ll support it and that means doing what the customers want. Otherwise you’ll do without. You know what that feels like?”
Maion nodded her head, partly in acknowledgement, partly to hide the fact she was crying.
“All right then.” Charmeine-Lan switched her voice back to the soft-friendly tone she’d used earlier. “It really isn’t bad, Michael-Lan doesn’t allow anybody bad in here so they’ll all be nice to you. If you’re good and work hard at pleasing the customers, one will take a liking to you and reserve you. That way you won’t have to go with anybody else. Now, when a customer asks you to go upstairs, you tell me so I can get another girl to take your place on the schedule right?”
Another tear-stained nod from Maion.
“Very good, so let’s get you a nice costume for your first appearance.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kanchanaburi, Thailand
Making an arrival is a well-versed art for those following the profession of arms. The sudden discovery that Heaven and Hell actually existed, followed by the rapid conquest of the latter had provided so many new opportunities for a dramatic arrival that most officers are hard put to chose which to employ. This arrival was no different, an hour or so earlier a Short 330 transport aircraft had arrived and disgorged a mass of equipment and a team of electronic specialists. Any observers with a basic knowledge of the new generation of electronic systems brought about by the discovery that portals could be opened between Earth and Hell would recognize the system they were setting up as an AN/GSY-1(V)4 Mod 5 Portal Generator.
If they hadn’t, their sad lack of current affairs knowledge would have been remedied when, after two hours hard work setting up the system a black ellipse appeared in the middle of the airfield and a column of five M1114 Humvees roared through and set off down the long, straight road that led to Kanchanaburi. Following them with only a slight delay was another convoy, a mix of more Humvees and six-by-six trucks. This one had troops on display, grim-faced men and women wearing white helmets, white gloves and white scarves. The Air Force personnel watching the cavalcade nodded significantly to each other, these were the Thai Army’s military police, the notorious White Mice. That was, in itself, a strong clue as to who had been in the first unit through, although that small convoy that was already disappearing into the distance.
The local population were used to military convoys making their way through the streets and got out of the way. They saw the red plate with two gold stars mounted on the front fender of each vehicles and noted the array of weapons mounted on the Humvees. They also noted that the vehicles were camouflaged red-gray rather than the usual dark green. The more astute realized that these vehicles had come straight from Hell and the really astute guessed that the Army headquarters in Kanchanaburi was about to get a visit from Hell in more ways than the obvious one. Astute or not, they got out of the way and watched the vehicles pass with resigned patience. It wasn’t as if these were politicians after all, these were generals and generals actually worked for a living.
“This looks bad.” Major General Asanee looked at the crowds of people at the sides of the road. They were refugees, all heading west, away from the advancing Myanmarese Army that was slowly inching its way down towards the transport nexus of Kanchanaburi.
“Backwash of a war always looks like this Ma’am.” Senior Colonel Prachep was looking out the other window. “But this is worse than most.”
“We’re lucky this is a divided highway. We’re going in, most people are coming out.”
“That’s encouraging of course, if the situation was really bad, they’d be using both lanes.”
“That is true.” Major General Asanee looked at the people on the other lane and guessed there would be more than a few deserters mixed in with them That would be for her White Mice to handle, they would already be setting up road-blocks and vetting the refugees. Genuine civilians would be allowed to continue on their way, life would be easier without them in the way. Any deserters would be detained, she had seriously thought of having them hanged at the roadside but had dismissed the idea. Executing people was a bit pointless these days, they’d just end up in Hell. Instead, they would be put into units tasked with the most dangerous of operations.
The Humvee column turned sharp right, past a complex of red-roofed buildings. She gestured abruptly. “The Tantipkan Hotel. Commandeer it, we’ll use it as accommodation for the sensitives. They’ll work better if they have somewhere comfortable to live.”
Prachep picked up the radio and contacted the White Mice unit back at the airfield. They’d detach a squad to tell the Hotel owner he now had a new set of residents. He understood exactly what his General had in mind, they’d been working together for years and, like any good aide, he could almost think with her mind. This whole operation depended on portals being opened to and from Hell, they would take care of moving reinforcements into the region and keeping them supplied. They had another purpose as well, Myanmarese aircraft hadn’t been reported this far west, not yet, and if they came, they would be in for a very unpleasant surprise. General Petraeus had made two squadrons of F-22s available to provide the Thai Army with air cover.
“This road seems clear.” Off the radio after the brief message, Prachep looked around again. The Humvee column was holding a steady 50 miles per hour, an impressive sight since only a couple of feet separated each of the vehicles. The drivers were blasting their horns at anybody who got in the way but the warnings were very few.
“It’s the back way in. Most people will be on the main street, about two hundred meters on our left. The Allied War Cemetery is just ahead of us on the left.” The convoy swung right, passing across a trio of reservoirs. “Sports ground up ahead. Remember it, we can use it as a portal point. They’ve been doing some building around here, those places with the blue roofs weren’t there when I was here last.”
The column swung left, then right again, once more parallel to the main road. Ahead of them was a crossroads, blocked with vehicles. The drivers didn’t slow down, they just held their hands on the vehicle horns and watched the civilians panicking as they tried to get out of the way. Two pick-up trucks collided as one backed up too hastily and a third went into a ditch.