"I just found out information that you both need to know," said Bean. Of course, this implied that Suriyawong; might not have recognised the importance of the information, so that Bean had to bring it to Chakri Naresuan directly. "I meant no lack of respect. Only that you must be aware of this immediately."
"What possible information can you have," said Chakri Naresuan, "that we don't already know?''
"Something that I learned from a well-connected friend," said Bean. "All our assumptions were based on the idea of the Indian Army using the obvious strategy—to overwhelm Burmese and Thai defences with huge armies. But I just learned that Petra Arkanian, one of Ender Wiggin's jeesh, may be working with the Indian Army. I never thought she would collaborate with Achilles, but the possibility exists. And if she's directing the campaign, it won't be a flood of soldiers at all."
"Interesting," said the Chakri. "What strategy would she use?"
"She would still overwhelm you with numbers, but not with massed armies. Instead there would be probing raids, incursions by smaller forces, each one designed to strike, draw your attention, and then fade. They don't even have to retreat. They just live off the land until they can re-form later. Each one is easily beaten, except that there's nothing to beat. By the time we get there, they're gone. No supply lines. No vulnerabilities, just probe after probe until we can't respond to them all. Then the probes start getting bigger. When we get there, with our thinly stretched forces, the enemy is waiting. One of our groups destroyed, then another."
The Chakri looked at Suriyawong. "What Borommakot says is possible," said Suriyawong. "They can keep up such a strategy forever. We never damage them, because they have an infinite supply of troops, and they risk little on each attack. But every loss we suffer is irreplaceable, and every retreat gives them ground."
"So why wouldn't this Achilles think of such a strategy on his own?" asked the Chakri. "He's a very bright boy, they say."
"It's a cautious strategy," said Bean. "One that is very frugal with the lives of the soldiers. And it's slow."
"And Achilles is never careful with the lives of his soldiers?"
Bean thought back to his days in Achilles' "family" on the streets of Rotterdam. Achilles was, in fact, careful of the lives of the other children. He took great pains to make sure they were not exposed to risk. But that was because his power base absolutely depended on losing none of them. If any of the children had been hurt, the others would have melted away. That would not be the case with the Indian Army. Achilles would spend them like autumn leaves.
Except that Achilles' goal was not to rule India. It was to rule the world. So it did matter that he earn a reputation as a beneficent leader. That he seem to value the lives of his people.
"Sometimes he is, when it suits him," said Bean. "That's why he would follow such a plan if Petra outlined it for him."
"So what would it mean," said the Chakri, "if I told you that the attack on Burma has just been launched, and it is a massive frontal assault by huge Indian forces, just as you originally outlined in your first memo to us?"
Bean was stunned. Already? The apparent non-aggression pact between India and Pakistan was only a few days old. They could not possibly have amassed troops that quickly.
Bean was surprised to see that Suriyawong also had been unaware that war had begun.
"It was an extremely well-planned campaign," said the Chakri. "The Burmese only had a day's warning. The Indian troops moved like smoke. Whether it is your evil friend Achilles or your brilliant friend Petra or the mere simpletons of the Indian high command, they managed it superbly."
"What it means," said Bean, "is that Petra is not being listened to. Or that she is deliberately sabotaging the Indian Army's strategy. I'm relieved to know this, and I apologise for raising a warning that was not needed. May I ask, sir, if Thailand is coming into the war now?"
"Burma has not asked for help," said the Chakri.
"By the time Burma asks Thailand for help," said Bean, "the Indian Army will be at our borders."
"At that point," said the Chakri, "we will not wait for them to ask."
"What about China?" asked Bean.
The Chakri blinked twice before answering. "What about China?"
"Have they warned India? Have they responded in any way?"
"Matters with China are handled by a different branch of government," said the Chakri.
"India may have twice the population of China," said Bean, "but the Chinese Army is better equipped. India would think twice before provoking Chinese intervention."
"Better equipped," said the Chakri. "But is it deployed in a usable way? Their troops are kept along the Russian border. It would take weeks to bring them down here. If India plans a lightning strike, they have nothing to fear from China."
"As long as the I.F. keeps missiles from flying," said Suriyawong. "And with Chamrajnagar as Polemarch, you can be sure no missiles will attack India."
"Oh, that's another new development," said the Chakri. "Chamrajnagar submitted his resignation from the I.F. ten minutes after the attack on Burma was launched. He will return to Earth—to India—to accept his new appointment as leader of a coalition government that will guide the newly enlarged Indian empire. For of course, by the time a ship can bring him back to Earth, the war will be over, one way or another."
"Who is the new Polemarch?" asked Bean.
"That is the dilemma," said the Chakri. "There are those who wonder whom the Hegemon can nominate, considering that no one can quite trust anyone now. Some are wondering why the Hegemon should name a Polemarch at all. We've done without a Strategos since the League War. Why do we need the I.F. at all?"
"To keep the missiles from flying," said Suriyawong.
"That is the only serious argument in favor of keeping the I.F.," said the Chakri. "But many governments believe that the I.F. should be reduced to the role of policing above the atmosphere. There is no reason for any but a tiny fraction of the I.F.'s strength to be retained. And as for the colonisation program, many are saying it is a waste of money, when war is erupting here on Earth. Well, enough of this little school class. There is grown-up work to be done. You will be consulted if we find that you are needed."
The Chakri's dismissive air was surprising. It revealed a high level of hostility to both of these Battle School graduates, not just the foreign one.
It was Suriyawong who challenged the Chakri on this. "Under what circumstances would we be called upon?" he asked. "Either the plans I drew up will work or they won't. If they work, you won't call on me. If they don't, you'll regard that as proof that I didn't know what I was doing, and you still won't call on me."
The Chakri pondered this for a few moments. "Why, I'd never thought of it that way. I believe you're right."
"No, you're wrong," said Suriyawong. "Nothing ever goes as planned during a war. We have to be able to adapt. I and the other Battle School graduates are trained for that. We should be kept informed of every development. Instead, you have cut me off from the intelligence that is flowing in. I should have seen this information the moment I woke up and looked at my desk. Why are you cutting me off?"
For the same reason you cut me off, Bean thought. So that when victory comes, all the credit can flow to the Chakri. "The Battle School children advised in the planning stages, but of course during the actual war, we did not leave it up to the children." And if things went badly, "We faithfully executed the plans drawn up by the Battle School children, but apparently school work did not prepare them for the real world." The Chakri was covering his ass.
Suriyawong seemed to understand this also, for he gave no more argument. He arose. "Permission to leave, sir," he said.
"Granted. To you, too, Borommakot. Oh, and we'll probably be taking back the soldiers Suriyawong gave you to play with. Restoring them to their original units. Please prepare them to leave at once."
Bean also rose to his feet. "So Thailand is entering the war?"
"You will be informe
d of anything you need to know, when you need to know it."
As soon as they were outside the Chakri's office, Suriyawong sped up his pace. Bean had to run to catch up.
"I don't want to talk to you," said Suriyawong.
"Don't be a big baby about it," said Bean scornfully. "He's only doing to you what you already did to me. Did I run off and pout?"
Suriyawong stopped and whirled on Bean. "You and your stupid meeting!"
"He already cut you off," said Bean. "Already. Before I even asked to meet."
Suriyawong knew that Bean was right. "So I'm stripped of influence."
"And I never had any," said Bean. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Do?" said Suriyawong. "If the Chakri forbids it, no one will obey my orders. Without authority, I'm just a boy, still too young to enlist in the army."
"What we'll do first," said Bean, "is figure out what this all means."
"It means the Chakri is an oomay careerist," said Suriyawong.
"Come, let's walk out of the building."
"They can draw our words out of the open air, too, if they want," said Suriyawong.
"They have to try to do that. Here, anything we say is automatically recorded."
So Suriyawong walked with Bean out of the building that housed the highest of the Thai high command, and together they wandered toward the married officers' housing, to a park with playground equipment for the children of junior officers. When they sat on the swings, Bean realised that he was actually getting a little too big for them.
"Your strike force," said Suriyawong. "Just when it might have been most needed, it'll be dispersed."
"No it won't," said Bean.
"And why not?"
"Because you drew it from the garrison protecting the capital. Those troops won't be sent away. So they'll remain in Bangkok. The important thing is to keep all our materiel together and within easy reach. Do you think you still have authority for that?"
"As long as I call it routine cycling into storage," said Suriyawong, "I suppose so."
"And you'll know where these men are assigned, so when we need to, we can call them back to us."
"If I try that, I'll be cut off from the net," said Suriyawong.
"If we try that," said Bean, "it will be because the net doesn't matter."
"Because the war is lost."
"Think about it," said Bean. "Only a stupid careerist would openly disdain you like this. He wanted to shame and discourage you. Have you given him some offence?"
"I always give offence," said Suriyawong. "That's why everyone called me Surly behind my back in Battle School. The only person I know who is more arrogant than I seem is you."
"Is Naresuan a fool?" asked Bean.
"I had not thought so," said Suriyawong.
"So this is a day for people who are not fools to act like fools."
"Are you saying I am also a fool?"
"I was saying that Achilles is apparently a fool."
"Because he is attacking with massed forces? You told us that was what we should expect. Apparently Petra did not give him the better plan."
"Or he's not using it."
"But he'd have to be a fool not to use it," said Suriyawong.
"So if Petra gave him the better plan, and he declined to use it, then he and the Chakri are both fools today. As when the Chakri pretended that he has no influence over foreign policy."
"About China, you mean?" Suriyawong thought about this for a moment. "You're right, of course he has influence. But perhaps he simply didn't want us to know what the Chinese were doing. Perhaps that was why he was so sure he didn't need us, that he didn't need to enter Burma. Because he knows the Chinese are coming in."
"So," said Bean. "While we sit here, watching the war, we will learn much from the plain events as they unfold. If China intervenes to stop the Indians before Achilles ever gets to Thailand, then we know Chakri Naresuan is a smart careerist, not a stupid one. But if China does not intervene, then we have to wonder why Naresuan, who is not a foolish man, has chosen to act like one."
"What do you suspect him of?" asked Suriyawong.
"As for Achilles," said Bean, "no matter how we construe these events, he has been a fool."
"No, he's only a fool if Petra actually gave him the better plan and he's ignoring it."
"On the contrary," said Bean. "He's a fool no matter what. To enter into this war with even the possibility that China will intervene, that is foolish in the extreme."
"So perhaps he knows that China will not intervene, and then the Chakri would be the only fool," said Suriyawong.
"Let's watch and see."
"I'll watch and grind my teeth," said Suriyawong.
"Watch with me," said Bean. "Let's drop this stupid competition between us. You care about Thailand. I care about figuring out what Achilles is doing and stopping him. At this moment, those two concerns coincide almost perfectly. Let's share everything we know."
"But you know nothing."
"I know nothing that you know," said Bean. "And you know nothing that I know."
"What can you possibly know?" said Suriyawong. "I'm the eemo who cut you off from the intelligence net."
"I knew about the deal between India and Pakistan."
"So did we."
"But you didn't tell me," said Bean. "And yet I knew."
Suriyawong nodded. "Even if the sharing is mostly one way, from me to you, it's long overdue, don't you think?"
"I'm not interested in what's early or late," said Bean. "Only what happens next."
They went to the officers' mess and had lunch, then walked back to Suriyawong's building, dismissed his staff for the rest of the day, and, with the building to themselves, sat in Suriyawong's office and watched the progress of the war on Worldnet. Burmese resistance was brave but futile.
"Poland in 1939," said Bean.
"And here in Thailand," said Suriyawong, "we're being as timid as France and England."
"At least China isn't invading Burma from the north, the way Russia invaded Poland from the east," said Bean.
"Small mercies," said Suriyawong.
But Bean wondered. Why doesn't China step in? Beijing wasn't saying anything to the press. No comment, about a war on their doorstep? What does China have up its sleeve?
"Maybe Pakistan wasn't the only country to sign a non-aggression pact with India," said Bean.
"Why? What would China gain?" asked Suriyawong.
"Vietnam?" said Bean.
"Worthless, compared to the menace of having India poised with a vast army at the underbelly of China."
Soon, to distract themselves from the news—and from their loss of any kind of influence—they stopped paying attention to the vids and reminisced about Battle School. Neither of them brought up the really bad experiences, only the funny things, the ridiculous things, and they laughed their way into the evening, until it was dark outside.
This afternoon with Suriyawong, now that they were friends, reminded Bean of home—in Crete, with his parents, with Nikolai. He tried to keep from thinking about them most of the time, but now, laughing with Suriyawong, he was filled with a bittersweet longing. He had that one year of something like a normal life, and now it was over. Blown to bits like the house they had been vacationing in. Like the government-protected apartment Graff and Sister Carlotta had taken them away from in the nick of time.
Suddenly a thrill of fear ran through Bean. He knew something, though he could not say how. His mind had made some connection and he didn't understand how, but he had no doubt that he was right.
"Is there any way out of this building that can't be seen from the outside?" asked Bean, in a whisper so faint he could hardly hear himself.
Suriyawong, who had been in the middle of a story about Major Anderson's penchant for nose-picking when he thought nobody was watching, looked at him like he was crazy. "What, you want to play hide-and-seek?"
Bean continued to whisper. "A way out."
S
uriyawong took the hint and whispered back. "I don't know. I always use the doors. Like most doors, they're visible from both sides."
"A sewer line? A heating duct?"
"This is Bangkok. We don't have heating ducts."
"Any way out."
Suriyawong's whisper changed back to voice. "I'll look at the blueprints. But tomorrow, man, tomorrow. It's getting late and we talked right through dinner."
Bean grabbed his shoulder, forced him to look into his eyes.
"Suriyawong," he whispered, even more softly "I'm not joking. Right now, out of this building unobserved."
Finally Suriyawong got it: Bean was genuinely afraid. His whisper was quiet again. "Why, what's happening?"
"Just tell me how."
Suriyawong closed his eyes. "Flood drainage," he whispered. "Old ditches. They just laid these temporary buildings down on top of the old parade ground. There's a shallow ditch that runs right under the building. You can hardly tell it's there, but there's a gap."
"Where can we get under the building from inside?"
Suriyawong rolled his eyes. "These temporary buildings are made of lint." To prove his point, he pulled away the corner of the large rug in the middle of the room, rolled it back, and then, quite easily, pried up a floor section.
Underneath it was sod that had died from lack of sunlight. There were no gaps between floor and sod.
"Where's the ditch?" asked Bean.
Suriyawong thought again. "I think it crosses the hall. But the carpet is tacked down there."
Bean turned up the volume of the vid and went out the door of Suriyawong's office and through the anteroom to the hall. He pried up a corner of the carpet and ripped. Carpet fluff flew, and Bean kept pulling until Suriyawong stopped him. "I think about here," he said.
They pulled up another floor section. This time there was a depression in the yellowed sod.
"Can you get through that?" asked Bean.
"Hey, you're the one with the big head," said Suriyawong.
Bean threw himself down. The ground was damp—this was Bangkok—and he was clammy and filthy in moments as he wriggled along. Every floor joist was a challenge, and a couple of times he had to dig with his army-issue knife to make way for his head. But he made good progress anyway, and wriggled out into the darkness only a few minutes later. He stayed down, though, and saw that Suriyawong, despite not knowing what was going on, did not raise his head when he emerged from under the building, but continued to creep along just as Bean was doing. They kept going until they reached the next point where the old eroded ditch went under another temporary building.
The Shadow of the Hegemon - Orson Scott Card Page 22
