Chapter 7
The Peace Line
18th of Fifthmoon, 6 Charles 9
Near the Byrandia-Laruna Border
When Byrandia got to feeling her southern borders were getting a little too cramped, she offered to buy some land off her neighbors. Said offer went over about as well as a lead balloon, so when Byrandia couldn't buy the land, she opted to just take it. Her neighbors didn't find this move all that neighborly.
Not content to sit back and watch their land be taken, they counterattacked, kicking off the War of Four. When the dust settled, Byrandia got the land she was after at the cost of several thousand dead and a lot of sore feelings that were still raw to this day. After two major wars and several lesser spats in the years to follow, those sore feelings weren't going away anytime soon.
Once the peace treaty was signed, the three vanquished nations erected a border wall they spitefully dubbed the Saintcharles Wall, lest any more of their lands find themselves under Saintcharles' authority, and went to work tearing up the roads and railways connecting their lands to the ceded territories. All except one railway, the Peace Line.
The Peace Line was a grand feat of engineering and international diplomacy. The Grand League of Powers celebrated its centennial with the plan for a dedicated railway connecting the capitals of the member states. It was protected by treaty, which was why it survived the aftermath of the War of Four. As air travel became more common, it seemed to many that the railway had become obsolete, but air travel didn't enjoy the same treaty protections, so the Peace Line was the safest way to travel internationally, especially for government officials.
It would take four days to reach Benvenue from Saintcharles. It wasn't so bad unless you had no idea what the hell you were doing there. That was how Root felt about it. Because he was technically on duty for the duration of the trip, he couldn't just drink himself silly and pass out in his cabin until they arrived. He could still drink his daily ration's worth, though, and that was exactly what he meant to do.
At the back of the dining car was a rather well-equipped bar with a selection of some of the finest liquors in the world. A little rich for Root's blood, but the government was picking up the tab, so he might as well broaden his horizons. He'd taken a liking to this South Malvinan liquor called Azul. He was pretty sure the bright blue color was artificial, but it was certainly one way to make out stand out on the shelf. The only problem was that it had a rather high alcohol content, so he couldn't drink that much of it without going over his limit.
The bartender poured him a glass. There was a large ball of ice that took up most of the space inside the glass and made it look like there was more drink. This way he could have three glasses instead of just one.
"You're probably the first Byrandian I've seen drink Azul like this, sir," the bartender said. "Have you been to Consalves or something?"
"If I'd had his stuff before, I wouldn't've had to ask you yesterday," Root replied.
"I guess that's true," the bartender said. "It's just that you Byrandians usually prefer local labels like Nomani White or the L'Enfant plum brandy."
"Guess I've got a more cosmopolitan palate."
"Don't take offense to this, sir, but most people who ride this train treat their eating and drinking like it's some sort of competition. They only eat their country's food and drink their country's drink, like eating or drinking anything else is giving ground to the enemy or something."
Root held up his glass and said, "If the proud Kingdom of Byrandia can't hold up to me taking a drink of this stuff, then we're proper fucked."
The bartender laughed.
"Well, that's certainly one way to look at it, sir."
Root didn't say that the proud Kingdom of Byrandia's days were numbered, as were everyone else's, and that these foolish games of petty rivalry didn't count for shit anymore. He didn't think he was supposed to talk about that kind of stuff much and he was quite sure he wasn't supposed to be that honest about it.
Although it nicely dovetailed with his thoughts about their new overlords, he certainly wasn't expecting Captain Tsai to take the seat next to him or Azuki to be with her, taking the seat on his right.
"I know nothing of this world's liquor," Captain Tsai said. "Do you have any recommendations, Colonel Maartens?"
Root didn't think they'd exchanged two words since they met and hadn't interacted at all except for that one dance at the ball. He silently held up his glass, prompting Captain Tsai to nod to the bartender.
While the bartender was pouring the Captain's drink, Azuki asked him, "Master, do you have any kanzake?"
"'Master'?" the bartender asked curiously.
"It's what the Gandohese call people in your profession," Root said.
"Really? Well then, I might want to put in for a transfer to the eastern leg. I could get used to being called 'master' all the time. Oh, right. Kanzake... That, uh... That's warm saky, right?"
"Yes," Azuki said.
"We don't see many Gandohese on this leg," the bartender said, "but I think I've got something here."
He opened one of the cabinets below the shelves and pulled out a little white bottle with Gandohese script on the side.
"Here it is. I think I remember them calling Ama... uh... Mama..."
"Amamiya."
"Yeah, that's it. Let me warm it up for you. Not too many warm drinks I make this time of year."
He put the bottle under the bar for a few minutes, then pulled it back out, saying, "There you go, ma'am. Oh, right. You're supposed to use this special glass."
The 'glass' he pulled out looked more like a small, flattened bowl. Azuki held up two fingers and said, "Two."
"Two? Okay."
He took out another one and Azuki then filled the two herself. Taking one in both hands, she offered it to Root.
"Mister Root."
He accepted the glass even though he didn't know how strong the stuff was and how it might affect his ration. He wasn't going to worry about it, though. Even if he went over his limit, surely the King would understand.
Azuki held up her glass and Root asked her, "What do I say?"
"Kampai."
"Well then, kampai."
They tapped their glasses together and Root watched Azuki to follow her lead on how to drink the stuff. It had quite a bit of bite to it, but that may have just been the heat.
"Japanese are Japanese no matter where you go," Captain Tsai muttered to herself.
"Japanese?" Root asked.
"It is the name of my people's ancestors back on Earth, Mister Root," Azuki said. "Captain Tsai's people have an old grudge with the Japanese. It is over a thousand years old but she acts as if the wounds are still fresh."
"In the six-thousand-year history of the great Middle Kingdom, do you think a mere millennium is time enough to forget... or to forgive?"
"I have read what you people have done to the Japanese since then," Azuki replied. "If it is vengeance you seek, I would say you have had it full."
"Vengeance is paid ten thousandfold," Captain Tsai said. "And we have not drunk nearly enough for you to speak so frankly with me, OberfÀhnrich."
"As you say, Frau KapitÀn."
"Sounds like the story here." Root said.
"Of course it does," Captain Tsai said. "It's the same pattern world after world. It is like there is some sort of unconscious driveâgenetic memory or whatever you want to call itâthat compels people on these Lost Worlds to try to recreate this half-baked vision of Earth. Some people have a clearer view than others. The damn Wokou are one of them."
"Wokou?"
"It is a name of abuse," Azuki said, pouring herself another glass. "Frau KapitÀn uses it from time to time."
Captain Tsai eyed her bitterly and said, "No matter how much conditioning we put you through, you still lack the proper respect for authority, OberfÀhnrich."
"I do what I am ordered to do, Frau KapitÀn," Azuki replied. She took a drink, then said, "It is enough."
"And if I ordered you to lick my boots, you Wokou dog?"
"Are you ordering me to lick your boots, Frau KapitÀn?"
It would seem that the Captain reached her limit and threw her drink at Azuki. Without even turning to look, Azuki caught the ice ball before it could hit her. Other than that, she didn't even budge.
Root moved himself further in between them and said, "Can we dial it down a bit, ladies, maybe? I don't wanna hafta explain to His Majesty why my uniform's soaked in cheap Malvinan hooch."
"Oh, it's not cheap, sir," the bartender said.
"Well then, all the more reason. Think of the taxpayers."
"I apologize for making a scene, Colonel Maartens," Captain Tsai said stiffly. "It is not fitting conduct for an officer in His Imperial Majesty's Navy. I will compensate you for the cost of laundering your uniform."
"I'm pretty sure this is an all-expense trip, but I'll call you when I file my expense report."
"I have been told that I am an angry drunk," she said.
"But you haven't really drunk anything yet," Root replied.
Ignoring his comment, Captain Tsai put her glass down on the bar and told the bartender, "Pour."
"Will you promise not to throw any more drinks, ma'am?" the bartender asked.
"I will make every effort."
While the bartender was pouring her a new drink, Root looked to Azuki, who was still holding the ice ball.
"Isn't that cold?" he asked.
"Not as cold as that day," she replied.
The sights, the sounds, the smells came back to him. He saw the mangled ruin of his left arm. He smelled the unwashed body, the blood, shit and gunpowder. Iokannan Faustman, the White Wolf, the legendary sniper lay dead on top of him. A skinchanger, he had attacked Root in the form of a monstrous wolf and only reverted back to his human shape as he breathed his last. It sure as hell took enough bullets to take him down.
And then there was Azuki, lying in the snow with her shoulder torn open. Faustman had all but torn her arm off before he went after Root. Azuki was strong, but you don't just bounce back from that. It was a wonder she held on as long as she did.
Root thought he was following her in death that day. Yes, it was cold. Damn cold...
"Sorry to interrupt you in the middle of your moment," Captain Tsai said, "but I did have a reason for coming here besides the alcohol."
Snapping out of it, Root asked her, "And what would that be, uh, Frau KapitÀn?"
"I have heard the explanation from your diplomats, but you strike me as a man of more... unvarnished opinions, Colonel Maartens. Tell me truly, what is this Grand League of Powers?"
"It's where the big fish argue about how to eat the small fish," Root said, "where they can make statements no one believes and pass resolutions no one follows."
"Then why is your king going there?"
"Because as worthless as it is, it's the only place where you can get the world's leaders in one room. Instead of spending weeks dealing with everybody individually, the King can get them all in one go. The ones that matter at any rate."
"Do you think this effort will be successful?"
"Not really. I imagine everyone's tryin' to cut their own sweetheart deal with your boss."
"We only need two or three of your larger nations to facilitate things," Captain Tsai said. "You will be glad to hear that the Lord Admiral is pleased with your country's efforts thus far. If you can actually deliver results, you can certainly look forward to one of those... sweetheart deals as you put it."
"Well, here's to the future then," Root said, raising his glass of Azul. "Kampai."
Captain Tsai gave him something of a sour look but nevertheless raised her glass and replied, "Ganbei."