Colonel Saul Henderson took one last stare at the map then swept it from the table, his gesture a small release for the anger and irritation that could grow within one in this heat. The adjutant by his side barely blinked, standing stubbornly in the blazing sun of the courtyard as his commander collected his thoughts.
Forty-two
years old, almost all of Saul's military service had been spent within the
Chinese Empire. As a fresh-faced eighteen year-old infantryman he had
participated in the Second Pacific War, pressing up out of Shanghai to bolster
the Japanese position within Shantung province. With the establishment of the
'New Empire' in Peking, American forces had remained as advisors, and later as
front-line allies of the new Regent and his government. The Southern Wars
against the Chinese Republicans had brought down one president, Henry Cabot
Lodge being widely pilloried for his support for 'decadent imperialists'
against which the American public naiively assumed to be the progressive forces
of the rebels. Anyone who had served in China knew better - knew that the best
hope was reformation from within, rather than revolution from without. The four
year's of Lodge's successor had served to educate the American public in this
reality, his policies having brought stagnation within China, and friction with
the Union's historic allies, Russia and Japan. Since 1924 American policy had
been set back on track. President Lansing's administration had helped the
Chinese clear the rebels out of the South, and now they could only be found
here - in Yunnan, on the borders with the Shan states, and further North in the
borderlands with the independent theocracy of Tibet.
He looked up into the azure sky. Not a cloud in sight. What a time of year to be campaigning.
"How long until the Imperial Prince arrives ?" he asked, his voice a careful monotone.
His adjutant
pulled a smart pocketwatch from his jacket pocket,
"Half an hour, sir, if the express from Chungking gets in on time."
"For anyone else it wouldn't" Saul commented, "But I suspect that the South China Railway Company may pull off a miracle today."
"Yes sir. I think that is quite likely sir."
Saul turned away from the map table, towards the veranda of what the local officials had assured him was the best house in town. To his eye it looked like nothing so much as a Mexican hacienda that a moving picture showing the evils of the Iturbide empire might portray. It also felt as old as if it could be dated back to the first such emperor, rather than the current incumbent - decaying, eons of dust swept into the corners year after year, long since riven of its sheen. Still, it would do. He doubted that the Imperial Prince expected better in a place like this.
An aircraft buzzed overhead.
"One of the Ruskies, sir" his adjutant made the identification without even looking up, being able to tell by the pitch of the engines alone.
"Don't tell me that Major Tishenko is feeling left out of our little tête-à-tête ?"
"I expect so, sir. The Russians did shoot up that convoy down at the border last month."
"For which the Consul's ears in Hanoi are still burning" Saul remarked ruefully, "Vietnam is adamant that it was a legitimate trading convoy coming out of Luang Prabang."
"No doubt the emperor does not wish to be associated with insurrection against his overlord." the adjutant pointed out.
"Yes, indeed" Saul saw no gain in arguing the point. He bent to pick up the map, replacing it on the table with a complete lack of flourish.
Politics this far South was a complete confusion. As well as the rebels in the borderlands, there were the numerous principalities of the Shan states - feudal, barely civilised to the mind of most Westerners, and pulled between allegiance to Asa in the West, Siam in the South, or Vietnam in the East. The small kingdoms of Luang Prabang and Ventiane made up the puzzle of Northern Indo-China playing off one regional power against the other, but powerful enough in their own right to intervene in external affairs.
Saul had no doubt in his own mind that the convoy that the Russians had shot up HAD been supplying the rebels. Nor that it had set out from Luang Prabang. But, had it been financed from Vietnam, or through Siam ? And was it government money or foreign investment ?> He would certainly not have put it past the French to interfere indirectly, for all that the demilitarised province of Annam separated their holdings in Cochin China from the imperial court in Hanoi.
"Colonel, sir ?"
A runner had appeared in the gateway. Saul turned his chiselled features towards him,
"Report" he commanded
"The Imperial Prince's train has been sighted on the viaduct. It is running five minutes ahead of time."
"Very well", Saul sighed, "Bring up the motorcar."
Brushing the dust of the courtyard from off his uniform, Saul preceded his adjutant out through the gateway. The bulky old Packard pulled up in front, its bodywork newly polished, looking oddly majestic despite its age. His adjutant opened the rear door for him, and Saul hauled himself into the interior. It would be well that they were not late for the arrival of the Imperial Prince.
"Drive on" his adjutant instructed, closing the door and sitting down next to him. With a shudder and a spray of small stones the Packard pulled out onto what passed for a highway in this part of Southern China.