The Windup Girl

The Somdet Chaopraya. The Protector of Her Majesty the Queen. And words… she forces her brain to work, to translate from Thai to Japanese and as she does, she becomes aware of the people all around her, the people who press in on every side, all of them reading about a windup girl who walks amongst them, a windup who slaughters the Queen's own protector, an agent of the Environment Ministry, a creature of deadly power.

People jostle around her as they try to read, shoving closer, squeezing past, all of them thinking she is one of them. All of them allowing her to live only because they do not yet see.

34

"Will you sit down? Your pacing makes me nervous."

Hock Seng pauses in the perambulation of his hovel to glare at Laughing Chan. "I pay for your calories, not the other way around."

Laughing Chan shrugs and goes back to playing cards. They've all been huddled in the room for the last several days. Laughing Chan is a congenial companion along with Pak Eng and Peter Kuok. But even the most congenial company…

Hock Seng shakes his head. It doesn't matter. The storm is coming. Bloodshed and mayhem on the horizon. It's the same feeling he had before the Incident, before his sons were beheaded and his daughters raped senseless. And he sat in the middle of that brewing storm, willfully ignorant, telling anyone who would listen that the men in K.L. would never let what had happened down in Jakarta happen to the good Chinese here. After all, were they not loyal? Did they not contribute? Did he not have friends at every level of government who assured him that the Green Headbands were but a bit of political posturing?

The storm was surging all around him, and he had refused to accept it… but not this time. This time, he is prepared. The air is electric with what is about to occur. Ever since the white shirts closed down the factories it was apparent. And now it is about to break. And this time, he is ready. Hock Seng smiles to himself, examines his little bunker with its stores of money and gems and food.

"Is there any more word on the radio?" he asks.

The three men exchange glances. Laughing Chan nods at Pak Eng. "It's your turn to wind it."

Pak Eng scowls and goes over to the radio. It's an expensive device, and Hock Seng is regretting that he purchased it at all. There are other radios in the slums, but lurking beside them draws attention and so he spent money on this one, unsure if it would even carry anything other than rumor, and yet unable to deny himself another source of information.

Pak Eng kneels beside the thing and starts to wind it. Its speaker crackles to life, barely loud enough over the whine of the crank.

"You know, if you fitted this with a decent gear system, it would be a lot more efficient."

Everyone ignores him, their attention entirely focused on the tiny speaker: Music, saw duang…

Hock Seng crouches by the radio, listening intently. Changes the dial. Pak Eng is starting to sweat. He winds for another thirty seconds and stops, puffing. "There. That should last a little while."

Hock Seng works the dial on the machine, listening to the divining winds of radio waves. Twirls across stations. Nothing but entertainments. Music.

Laughing Chan looks up. "What time is it?"

"Four, perhaps?" Hock Seng shrugs.

"There should be muay thai. They should be doing the opening rituals by now."

Everyone exchanges glances. Hock Seng moves through more stations. Music only. No news. Nothing… And then a voice. Filling all the stations, speaking as one voice and one station. They all crouch round, listing.

"Akkarat, I think." Hock Seng pauses. "The Somdet Chaopraya has died. Akkarat is blaming the white shirts." He looks at them all. "It is beginning."

Pak Eng and Laughing Chan and Peter all look at Hock Seng with respect. "You were right."

Hock Seng nods impatiently. "I learn."

The storm is gathering. The megodonts must do battle. It is their fate. The power sharing of the last coup could never last. The beasts must clash and one will establish final dominance. Hock Seng murmurs a prayer to his ancestors that he will come out of this maelstrom alive.

Laughing Chan stands. "I guess we'll have to earn this bodyguard money after all."

Hock Seng nods seriously. "It will not be pretty, not for anyone who is not prepared."

Pak Eng begins pumping his spring gun. "It reminds me of Penang."

"Not this time," Hock Seng says. "This time, we are ready." He waves to them. "Come. It's time we saw to whatever else we can-"

A banging on the door makes them all straighten.

"Hock Seng! Hock Seng!" A hysterical voice, more pounding from outside.

"It's Lao Gu." Hock Seng pulls open the door and Lao Gu stumbles in.

"They've taken Mr. Lake. The foreign devil and all his friends."

Hock Seng stares at the rickshaw man. "The white shirts are moving against him?"

"No. The Trade Ministry. I saw Akkarat himself do the deed."

Hock Seng frowns. "It makes no sense."