One of the men is Akkarat. Another Anderson recognizes as an admiral who harries the calorie ships going to Koh Angrit. Another he thinks is perhaps a southern general. In one corner, a sleek man wearing a black military uniform stands watching, eyes attentive. Another…
Anderson sucks in his breath.
Carlyle whispers, “Get down and show some respect.” He’s already falling to his knees and making a khrab. Anderson drops as quickly as he can.
The Somdet Chaopraya watches expressionless as they pay obeisance.
Akkarat laughs at their bowing and scraping. He comes around the table and brings them to their feet. “No need for so much formality here,” he says, smiling. “Come. Join us. We’re all friends here.”
“Indeed.” The Somdet Chaopraya smiles and raises a glass. “Come and drink.”
Anderson wais again, as deeply as he is able. Hock Seng claims that the Somdet Chaopraya has killed more people than the Environment Ministry has slaughtered chickens. Before he was appointed protector of the Child Queen, he was a general, and his campaigns in the east are the brutal stuff of legend. If it weren’t for the accident of his common birth line, it is speculated that he might even think to supplant royalty. Instead, he looms behind the throne, and all khrab before him.
Anderson’s heart is pounding. With the Somdet Chaopraya backing a change of government, anything is possible. After years of searching and the failure in Finland, a seedbank is close. And with it, the answer to nightshades and ngaw and a thousand other genetic puzzles. This hard-eyed man who toasts him with a smile that could be friendly or feral holds the keys to everything.
A servant offers wine to Anderson and Carlyle. They join the assembled men at the table. “We were just talking about the coal war,” Akkarat supplies. “The Vietnamese have given up on Phnom Penh for the moment.”
“Good news, then.”
The conversation continues, but Anderson only half listens. Instead, he furtively observes the Somdet Chaopraya. The last time he saw the man was outside the Environment Ministry’s temple to Phra Seub, as they both gawked at the Japanese delegation’s windup girl. In person, the man appears much older than in the pictures that adorn the city and depict him as a loyal defender of the Child Queen. His face is mottled with drink, and his eyes are sunken with the debauch he is rumored to like so well. Hock Seng claims that his brutal reputation on the battlefield is matched in his private life, and though the Thais may khrab before his image, he is not loved as the Child Queen is. And now, as the Somdet Chaopraya looks up and catches Anderson’s gaze, Anderson thinks he sees why.
He’s met calorie executives like this. Men intoxicated on their power and influence, their ability to bring nations to heel with the threat of a SoyPRO embargo. A hard, brutal man. Anderson wonders if the Child Queen will actually reach the fullness of her power with this man standing so close. It seems unlikely.
Conversation around the table continues to carefully avoid the reason for their midnight rendezvous. They speak of harvests in the north, and discuss the problem of the Mekong now that the Chinese have placed more dams at its source. They talk about new clipper ship designs that Mishimoto is preparing for production.
“Forty knots with favorable winds!” Carlyle pounds the table gleefully. “A hydrofoil package and fifteen hundred tons of cargo. I’m going to buy a fleet of them!”
Akkarat laughs. “I thought air freight was the future. Heavy-lift dirigibles.”
“With those clippers? I’m willing to hedge my bets. During the old Expansion there was a mix of transit options. Air and sea. I don’t see why it won’t be the same this time.”
“The new Expansion is on everyone’s minds these days.” Akkarat’s smile fades. He glances at the Somdet Chaopraya, who gives a barely discernable nod. The Trade Minister goes on, speaking directly to Anderson. “Some elements in the Kingdom oppose this progress. Benighted elements, to be sure, but inconveniently tenacious as well.”
“If you’re asking for assistance,” Anderson says, “we remain happy to provide it.”
Another pause. Akkarat’s eyes stray again to the Somdet Chaopraya. He clears his throat. “There are concerns, still, about the nature of your assistance. The history of your sort doesn’t invite confidence.”
“A bit like climbing into bed with a nest of scorpions,” the Somdet Chaopraya supplies.
Anderson smiles slightly. “It seems you are already surrounded by a number of nests. With your permission, some of them could be removed. To mutual benefit.”
“The price you’re asking is too high,” Akkarat says.
Anderson keeps his voice neutral. “We are asking for nothing other than access.”
“And this man, this Gibbons.”
“You know of him, then?” Anderson leans forward. “You know where he is?”
The table falls silent. Akkarat glances again at the Somdet Chaopraya. The man shrugs, but it’s enough of an answer for Anderson. Gibbons is here. Somewhere in the country. Probably in the city. No doubt designing a follow-up triumph to the ngaw.
“We’re not asking for the country,” Anderson says. “The Thai Kingdom is nothing like Burma or India. It has its own history, one of independence. We respect that absolutely.”
The assembled men’s faces turn stony.
Anderson curses himself. Fool. You’re speaking to their terrors. He changes tacks. “There are significant opportunities here. Cooperation benefits both parties. My people are prepared to offer significant assistance to the Kingdom if we can come to agreement. Help with your border disputes, calorie security that hasn’t been enjoyed since the Expansion, all of this can be yours. This is an opportunity for all of us.”
Anderson trails off. The general is nodding. The admiral is frowning. Akkarat and the Somdet Chaopraya are blanks. He can’t read them at all.
“Please excuse us,” Akkarat says.
It is not a request. The guards indicate that Anderson and Carlyle should leave. A moment later they are out in the passageway with four guards surrounding them.
Carlyle stares at the floor. “They don’t seem convinced. Can you think of any reason why they wouldn’t trust you?”
“I’ve got weapons and the money for bribes ready to be landed. If they can open communication with Pracha’s generals, I can buy and equip them. Where is the risk for them?” Anderson shakes his head, irritated. “They should be jumping at the opportunity. It’s the most equitable deal we’ve ever offered.”
“It’s not the offer. It’s you. You, and AgriGen, and every bit of your damn history. If they trust you, it happens. If not…” Carlyle shrugs.
The door opens and they’re invited back in. Akkarat says, “Thank you so much for your time. I’m sure that we will take your offer under advisement.”
Carlyle slumps, deflated by the polite refusal. The Somdet Chaopraya smiles slightly as the news is delivered. Pleased, perhaps, to slap the farang down. More polite words are passed around the cabin, but Anderson hardly hears them. Rejection. He’s so close he can almost taste the ngaw, and still they throw up barriers. There has to be a way to reopen discussion. He stares at the Somdet Chaopraya. He needs a lever. Something to break this impasse-
Anderson almost laughs out loud. Pieces click into place. Carlyle is still mumbling disappointment, but Anderson just smiles and wais, hunting for a way in. A way to keep the conversation going a bit longer. “I completely understand your concerns. We have not earned sufficient trust. Perhaps we could discuss something different. A project of friendship, say. Something less high stakes.”