Hong was lost in thought. As they sat around a table in the minister’s plush office, his past missions sounded so honorable. The truth was that each of them had been a hell awash with blood. The three forays into South Korean were spy missions. On the last one, he’d been shot in the hand and lost half of two fingers. The wound still ached from time to time. The mission into Japan was dirtier and darker. The goal had been to kidnap Japanese citizens and bring them to North Korea as language instructors in schools for spies. That mission almost ended in failure. Of the three men and three women he captured, he’d only brought back the men. One of the women had cried out when a Japanese patrol passed by; he’d strangled her with his bare hands. It upset the other two women so much he’d had to cut their throats to shut them up. He hadn’t blinked once. Duty first.
“Now to the situation that brought us here today,” the minister said as he opened the file in front of him.
Brace yourself, thought Hong.
“This afternoon at half past three local time, the Hangeul 9 Long-Range Listening Station picked up a radio transmission two minutes and twenty seconds long. The message was broadcast in English and repeated several times. You have a transcript of it in your file.”
For a few moments, there was just the sound of shuffling papers. Then the minister continued. “The signal came from a few miles off the African coast and was transmitted by an American ship.”
“Military?” asked one of the generals in alarm.
“No, a civilian tanker, judging by the message.”
“Does it have a military escort?” asked another general, who looked old enough to have fought during the Dark Ages.
“We don’t know, but that’s not important,” said the minister. “It’s too far away for any ship in the People’s Navy to intercept it.”
“Why would we want to intercept it?” Hong asked cautiously. All eyes turned to him, then quickly looked away. No one could stare into the Colonel’s lifeless eyes for long.
The minister cleared his throat and glanced at the generals. The oldest one nodded slightly. Minister Kim mustered up his courage and looked straight into Hong’s eyes.
“Colonel, the situation is complicated. In spite of our Dear Leader’s wise, shrewd counsel, we’ve reached a critical juncture. The Apocalypse has affected us much less than it has the decadent imperialists, including our southern neighbors. Thanks to Kim Jong-Un’s sensible tactics, not one of those monsters has crossed our borders, so the disease hasn’t spread into North Korea. In that sense, we’re safe.”
The same gibberish, but not a word about the real problem. He’s a typical bureaucrat covering his ass, thought Hong. He decided to take the direct approach. “What is the problem then?”
“That, regrettably, we aren’t entirely on our own in the world. Our policy has always been that we manufacture all our consumer goods and try to depend on only our own resources. Despite all our efforts, though, some things keep us from being completely self-sufficient.”
Hong slowly folded his hands on the table. It was an open secret that their system had failed. North Korea had been a rural country for decades. After years of poor harvests, the famines were devastating. Years ago, they’d been humiliated when they had to accept US grain and medicine to rescue entire regions from starvation. Millions of lives were saved, but the shameful insult was hard to bear. The colonel firmly believed that North Korea must sustain itself, wholly apart from imperialist influences.
“I fail to see the problem, Comrade Minister. We can certainly live without Chinese cigarettes or contraband Japanese beer.” The look on his face remained passive.
“No doubt, Colonel. But without oil, we’ll be on our knees in three months.”
The damn oil, of course. “I understand. How bad is the situation?” he asked slowly.
The minister looked nervously at the elderly, bald general, who again nodded almost imperceptibly. He reminded Hong of a very old, very ugly turtle.
“Catastrophic. Our Chinese comrades used to supply the People’s Republic of Korea with all its oil, but since the Apocalypse, we haven’t received a drop.”
“Did the Chinese cut us off?”
“Not exactly.” The minister’s voice trembled.
“What is the problem then?”
“We believe there’s no one left in China, except for a few scattered groups. And the Undead, of course. What’s more, the oil refineries were destroyed when Beijing detonated nuclear bombs in an attempt to contain the plague.”
“How long do we have?”
“Heavy industry is practically at a standstill and light industry is operating at only a quarter of its capacity. Gasoline is severely rationed, even in the People’s Army. We are stockpiling for winter, but there still won’t be enough. In three months—at most—our reserves will be completely depleted. This winter, many people will freeze to death.”
“Our top priority is capturing that ship and its crew, Colonel,” said General Turtle in a brittle voice. “We have to find out where the oil came from and get that area under the control of the People’s Army right away.”
“If we could get a reliable source of oil, Colonel,” the minister chimed in, “our situation would change radically. It would guarantee the viability of the People’s Republic of Korea and further our Dear Leader’s master plan. We’d be invincible.”
“Invincible?”
“Think about it, Colonel. North Korea is the only country in the world that survived the Apocalypse.” Here the minister got choked up, and his face grew increasingly red. “Once we have a fuel source, we can move our ships, tanks, and planes wherever we want. Conquering the world will be child’s play. Those bands of frightened survivors scattered here and there, clinging to their ragged flags, will be no match for our glorious forces. Our Dear Leader, Comrade Kim Jong-Un, will realize his Manifest Destiny: to be the first to rule a world united under the Juche ideology. We Koreans will be the driving force in that world!”
The three generals pounded on the table and applauded, their eyes shining with excitement. Their plan was ambitious, but if they pulled it off, the result would be staggering. For the first time in history, there would be only one true superpower: North Korea. Kim Jong-Un would achieve what Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, Caesar, Napoleon, and Hitler only dreamed of—he would rule the world.
“Colonel, you will spearhead the mission. From the radio transmission, we learned that the ship is headed for Gulfport, a town in the southern United States. You and three hundred men will fly there, capture that ship and its crew, and find out where their oil is from. After that, nothing will stand between us and our heroic destiny.”
“I will carry out my orders, Comrade Minister, but there is one thing I don’t understand.” The Colonel chose his words very carefully. “The Undead. They’re everywhere. Billions of them. The People’s Army is unquestionably the most glorious army, but even we can’t kill all the monsters. What is our Peerless Leader’s plan for conquering the world with all those things roaming around?”
The elderly general looked at the minister and nodded again.
“The truth is, Colonel,” Minister Kim said as a satisfied smile spread slowly across his face, “those things—those Undead—aren’t long for this world.”
“What do you mean?” Hong, stupefied, blinked for the first time in the whole meeting.