Chasing the Phoenix (29 page)

Read Chasing the Phoenix Online

Authors: Michael Swanwick

“Our marriage was never in trouble in the first place. Which is a remarkable feat considering that it exists only in your imagination. As for Shrewd Fox, she is clearly plotting mischief. The Perfect Strategist told me to keep an eye on her in the hope that said mischief can be contained.”

“What kind of mischief?”

“If we knew, we would have taken action already. As it is, we must fret and wait.”

*   *   *

THE DAY
of the battle dawned clear and pleasantly cool. It would be hard to imagine a more auspicious day for mass slaughter. The armies of Twin Cities and the Republic of Central Plains had set up separate camps in a low line of hills overlooking the Long River's floodplain. The ground between the hills and where the Immortals had encamped was flat and empty, perfect for wholesale bloodshed. But there were marshes behind them, so that if they had to retreat, they must move westward, where they would be boxed in by thick forests. From a tactical viewpoint it was hardly ideal.

But Darger was clearly delighted with it.

“Does this meet with your approval, General Shrewd Fox?”

“Oh, yes. It will do quite fine.”

“Could it be improved upon?”

“No, it could not.”

Surplus, however, did not share in any of the glee felt by his companions. “Need I remind you both that success requires that Powerful Locomotive follow to the letter a plan in which he emphatically does not believe. What is to prevent him from acting like … well, himself?”

“Oh, piffle,” said Darger.

“I have perfect confidence in Ceo Powerful Locomotive,” Shrewd Fox said. “Wait and see.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, the ceo came stumping up so vigorously that his cane hand had difficulty keeping in time with his stride.

“Was there ever such an unconvincing limp?” Surplus murmured.

“The only person it has to convince is the ceo himself,” Darger replied, equally softly. “So long as Powerful Locomotive thinks we are all deceived, it hardly matters that not a one of us is.”

“Hush now,” Shrewd Fox said.

Ceo Powerful Locomotive joined the three. Hanging from his neck was a pair of Utopian binoculars such as could not be duplicated with current technology; it was easily worth the price of a good-sized village. He paused portentiously, cleared his throat, and spat. Then, scowling at the distant camps where soldiers were already beginning to line up in fighting formations, he said, “Did you know that the land midway between us and those bastards out there—the land where we are most likely to fight—is riddled with streams and sodden with water? It's not quite marshland, but damned if we won't be up to our knees in mud long before the fight is over.”

“If you feel a recurrence of your illness coming on, I would be happy to take over command from you,” Shrewd Fox said, delivering the words in such a manner that no one could miss the sarcasm.

The ceo stiffened and his face twisted into a silent snarl. Then he spun on his heel, turning his back on Shrewd Fox, and shouted, “Battle horns! Drums! Sound assembly! It's time for this debacle to begin.”

Troops had already been gathering, in accordance with the eagerness and ambition of their commanders. Now soldiers came running from all directions and units coalesced. In an impressively brief time, they were ready to advance.

A soldier brought up a white stallion. Ceo Powerful Locomotive climbed up on it and galloped off to oversee the order of battle.

Shortly thereafter, Terrible Nuisance brought up Buttercup, and Surplus swung into the saddle. The rest of the Dog Pack fell in behind him, bringing with them (because he had made them his personal guard) a mountain horse for the Perfect Strategist and (because Darger distrusted her and wanted to keep her under his eye) another for Shrewd Fox.

Surplus patted Terrible Nuisance's shoulder in an avuncular fashion. “The great advantage of being the guard for a member of the high command is that we are unlikely to actually do any fighting. However, as a precaution, you will not join the Dog Pack today. A battlefield is no place for children. You can watch the goings-on from the relative safety of the camp.”

“Hey! What? That's not fair! Little Spider—”

“Little Spider prevailed upon her aunt to overrule my common sense on her behalf. As Fire Orchid's husband, I had no choice but to obey. Just as you, being my nephew, have no choice but to accept the wisdom of my orders.”

“You're not my real uncle,” the boy said heatedly. “You and Auntie Fire Orchid are just playing at being married.”

“I'm relieved that this fact, so obvious to me, can be perceived by another living being. But it has no relevance here. Scoot!”

Surplus returned his attention to the upcoming conflict.

Slowly the three armies stirred, flowing out from their encampments to take their places on the floodplain. Battle drums played, banners flapped in the breeze, and tidy rows of minuscule soldiers advanced in neat array. Riding at the head of the Dog Pack, just off to one side of the vanguard, Surplus said, “I cannot help reflecting how similar all this is to the imagined conflicts of my youth, fought by lead soldiers with cannons that I carved from twigs. The romantic side of my nature, even now, finds it rousing.”

“The rational side of my nature is appalled,” Darger said. “However, I too feel oddly stirred.”

Shrewd Fox said nothing.

“In any case,” Surplus said, “we're in too deep now to back out.”

“Just remember that Shrewd Fox and I are here only as observers and behave accordingly, and all will be well.”

For a time the armies advanced. Then all three came to a mutual halt, just out of cannon range of each other. On the southern end of the grassy plain fluttered the Hidden Emperor's banners. To the north were the red and black flags of Twin Cities and the orange flags of the Republic of Central Plains, side by side, though with a cautious distance between them.

“Here Ceo Powerful Locomotive sees the armies arrayed before him clearly for the first time. At this point he realizes that a frontal assault would be suicidal. Therefore he orders a strategic retreat,” Darger commented.

“So our plan stipulates,” Shrewd Fox said, a little smile playing on her face.

“Yes,” Surplus said.

The armies remained static.

“With our forces in seeming disarray and thus easy to pick off and obliterate, the obvious thing for our enemies to do will be to charge forward in hot pursuit,” Darger said.

“So one would think.”

“There is no sensible alternative,” Surplus agreed.

“But, teamed with a distrusted ally,” Darger continued, “each army will be reluctant to pull into the lead, thus exposing their flank to a treacherous attack. Seeing in each other this unwillingness to engage with us, their leaders can only conclude that they have been betrayed. So each must inevitably turn upon the other.”

“Inevitably, you say. Yes, it sounded good at the conference table. Let us see how it plays out in fact.”

“Am I missing something here?” Surplus asked.

“We should move closer to the ceo,” Shrewd Fox said, “so we can overhear what ensues.”

The Dog Pack had no orders to follow in Powerful Locomotive's footsteps—but neither did they have orders
not
to do so. So Surplus nodded to Fire Orchid, and they led their crew closer.

At the very front and center of the massed Immortals, Ceo Powerful Locomotive sat atop his horse, his cane tucked under his arm, studying the enemy through the field glasses. The enemy armies continued immobile. When at last the ceo lowered the glasses, his face was demonic.

“Now he will sound the order to retreat,” Darger murmured.

“Will he?”

“If he is at all rational,” Surplus said, “he must.”

Powerful Locomotive did not.

Instead, throwing aside his cane, he cried, “This will not work!” Then he galloped to the far flank of the vanguard, where White Squall sat waiting in her backhoe (elaborately detailed in Crossroads with red and yellow paint and gold trim) and gesticulated forcibly. She responded. Even at a distance, it was obvious that she disputed the wisdom of his orders. But the ceo cut her short with a wave of his arm that said, as clearly as words: Obey or die.

White Squall stood in the cab of her machine and shouted orders that could not be heard over the distance. Her rocket men ran to the front of the army and set up their Red Arrows. There was a pause as arcane rituals were performed. Then, as one, forty rockets screamed toward the enemy armies.

Surplus could hardly believe his eyes. “What the devil does he think he's doing? Has Powerful Locomotive lost his senses?”

“No,” Shrewd Fox said, “he has remembered his duty. I was confident he would.”

“The fool is overcompensating,” Darger said. “He'll never win White Squall's love now.”

“This is not about love.”

Even as the rockets were in the air, arcing toward their targets, Cao White Squall's machines rumbled forward. The spiders, crushing wheels, and walking fire cannons predominated, but there were also wall openers, wolves, prismatic death sprayers, and giant metal crabs scattered among them. At their fore was White Squall in her scorpion-like backhoe. It was a sight to terrify anybody who saw it.

But though the rockets killed many soldiers and panicked a unit of leather-armored giant ground sloths that ran amok and trampled many more, the enemy troops were not terrified. The injured were rushed off to field hospitals, and the dead were cleared away. The runaway
Megatherium
were captured and calmed. A steady, disciplined cannonade began and did not cease.

Cannonballs flew and plowed into the earth, sending up geysers of dirt. A direct hit caused a spider to explode. A hole appeared in the armor of a walking fire cannon, and it veered off to the side, striding determinedly toward no known destination, its crew dead. Still, White Squall and her archaeologists drove forward, even as the cannon fire grew more concentrated.


C'est magnifique,
” Darger said. “
Mais ce n'est pas la guerre
.”

Surplus gripped his reins tightly. “Aubrey, dear friend, much though I esteem and admire you, this is no time to indulge in your penchant for cultural reference.”

“The worst is yet to come,” Shrewd Fox said. “Wait.”

At that moment, as if her words were a prophecy, the machines hit the muddy ground midway between the armies and slowed. One of the crushing wheels swerved to avoid hitting a spider, slid out of control, and slowly toppled over on its side.

“What in heaven's name is happening?” Darger cried.

“During the night the enemy's sappers diverted a stream or three, as was only sensible. The water wouldn't show in the high grass, of course, but it would saturate the earth, making that section about as difficult to traverse as a bog.”

“You knew this would be done?”

“I counted on it.”

Now White Squall's backhoe was mired in the mud and unable to go any farther. Darger ground his teeth. “Oh, dear Lord,” he groaned. Then he spun about to face Surplus. “Old friend, I … I cannot ask you to…”

“You don't need to ask,” Surplus assured him. Addressing his mountain horse, he said, “Are you ready to ride into danger, Buttercup?”

“Hohhhhhh
hyesss
!”

Swiftly, Surplus rode to Ceo Powerful Locomotive's side, saluted, and said, “Sir! Requesting permission to rescue Cao White Squall.”

Ceo Powerful Locomotive put down his binoculars. A fleeting look of relief appeared on his face only to be swallowed up by grim resolve almost as quickly as it had appeared. With a curt nod, the ceo said, “Granted.”

An instant later, Surplus was speeding into the battle and cursing himself for a fool.

*   *   *

SURPLUS WAS
halfway to the bogged-down machines when he realized that Fire Orchid was right behind him. He moved his mountain horse a little to the right to let her catch up and shouted, “What the blazes do you think you're doing?”

“If my husband is about to rescue some strange floozy, I want to be there. To make sure nothing happens.”

“You madwoman! We're on a battlefield! People are shooting at us!” This last was inspired by a cannonball that sizzled through the air mere feet from his head.

“Yes, I agree. So romantic!”

Surplus had never seen Fire Orchid's hair so bright. It seemed to set all the battlefield aglow. But, keeping his head down low over Buttercup's neck, he focused all his thought on reaching Cao White Squall and as little as possible on the danger of his situation. The sooner they were out of this mess, the better.

It took forever, it took but an instant to reach the battered remains of the Division of Sappers and Archaeologists. Right in the middle of the scrapyard of machines stood White Squall atop her disabled backhoe, bellowing orders. At her direction, the operators of those few machines still operative—spiders, mostly—were retrieving as many of the crews of the disabled machines as they could and then retreating.

Cannonballs continued to fall about them.

Then Surplus had reached the backhoe. He was about to offer a rescue when Fire Orchid pushed her mountain horse between him and the cao and shouted, “Take my hand!”

With one last glance around to assure herself that there was no more she could do, White Squall allowed herself to be hauled up behind Fire Orchid. Then they were racing back toward the Immortals.

Surplus paused just long enough to haul a dazed-looking soldier from the ruins of his crushing wheel onto the mountain horse behind him and sped in pursuit of her.

*   *   *

BY THE
time they rejoined the army, the Immortals were in full retreat.

Surplus dropped off his rescued soldier, and a medic rushed up to examine him. Meanwhile, Fire Orchid had already helped White Squall down and then retreated back into the Dog Pack, where she lurked as inconspicuously as it was possible for such a woman to do.

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