The Windup Girl

Chaya touches his chin, pulls his attention back to her. Smiles up at him. "So what is it that left you smelling of smoke, noble warrior, defender of Krung Thep? Why so pleased with yourself?"

Jaidee smiles slightly. "You can read it in the whisper sheets tomorrow."

She purses her lips. "I'm worried about you. Really."

"That's because you have a good heart. But you shouldn't worry. They're done with heavy-handed measures against me. It went badly the last time. The papers and whisper sheets liked the story too much. And our most revered Queen has registered her own support for what I do. They'll keep their distance. Her Majesty the Queen, at least, they still respect."

"You were lucky that she was allowed to hear of you at all."

"Even that heeya the Crown Protector can't blind her."

Chaya stiffens at his words. "Jaidee, please. Not so loud. The Somdet Chaopraya has too many ears."

Jaidee makes a face. "You see? This is what we've come to. A Crown Protector who spends his time meditating on how to take the inner apartments of the Grand Palace. A Trade Minister who conspires with farang to destroy our trade and quarantine laws. And meanwhile, we all try not to speak too loudly."

"I'm glad I went to the anchor pads tonight. You should have seen how much money those Customs officers were raking in, just standing aside and letting anything at all pass through. The next mutation of cibiscosis could have been sitting in vials right in front of them, and they would have held out a hand for a bribe. Sometimes, I think we're living the last days of old Ayutthaya all over again."

"Don't be melodramatic."

"History repeats itself. No one fought to protect Ayutthaya, either."

"And so what does that make you? Some villager of Bang Rajan, reincarnated? Holding back the farang tide? Fighting to the last man? That sort of thing?"

"At least they fought! Which would you rather be? The farmers who held off the Burmese army for a month, or the ministers of the Kingdom who ran away and let their capital be sacked?" He grimaces. "If I were smart, I'd go to the anchor pads every night and teach Akkarat and the farang a real lesson. Show them that someone's still willing to fight for Krung Thep."

He expects Chaya to try to shut him up again, to cool his hot-hearted talk, but instead, she is silent. Finally she asks, "Do you think our lives are always reborn here, in this place? Do we have to come back and face all of this again, no matter what?"

"I don't know," Jaidee says. "That's the sort of question Kanya would ask."

"She's a dour one. I should get her an amulet, too. Something that would make her smile for once."

"She is a bit strange."

"I thought Ratana was going to propose to her."

Jaidee pauses, considering Kanya and pretty Ratana, with her breathing mask and her underground life in the Ministry's biological containment labs. "I don't pry into her private life."

"She'd smile more if she had a man."

"If someone as good as Ratana couldn't make her happy, then no man has a hope." Jaidee grins. "Anyway, if she had a man, he'd spend all his time being jealous of the men she commands in my unit. All the handsome men…" He leans forward and tries to kiss Chaya but she pulls away too quickly.

"Ugh. You smell like whiskey, too."

"Whiskey and smoke. I smell like a real man."

"Go off to bed. You'll wake up Niwat and Surat. And mother."

Jaidee pulls her close, puts his lips to her ear. "She wouldn't mind another grandchild."

Chaya pushes him away, laughing. "She will if you wake her up."

His hands slip along her hips. "I'll be very quiet."

She slaps his hands away, but doesn't try very hard. He catches her hand. Feels the stumps of her missing fingers, caresses their ridges. Suddenly they're both solemn again. She takes a ragged breath. "We've all lost too many things. I can't bear to lose you, too."

"You won't. I'm a tiger. And I'm no fool."

She holds him close. "I hope so. I truly do." Her warm body presses against him. He can feel her breathing, steady, full of concern for him. She draws back and looks at him solemnly, her eyes dark and full of care.

"I'll be fine," he says again.

She nods but doesn't seem to be listening. Instead she seems to be studying him, following the lines of his brow, of his smiles, of his scars and pocks. The moment seems to stretch forever, her dark eyes on him, memorizing, solemn. At last she nods, as though listening to something she tells herself, and her worried expression lifts. She smiles and pulls him close, pressing her lips to his ear. "You are a tiger," she whispers, as if she is a fortune teller pronouncing, and her body relaxes into him, pressing to him fully. He feels a rush of relief as they come together, finally.

He clasps her to him more tightly. "I've missed you," he whispers.

"Come with me." She slips free and takes him by the hand. Leads him toward their bed. She pulls aside the mosquito netting and slips under its tenting gossamer. Clothing rustles, falling away. A shadow woman teases him from within.