The Windup Girl(61)

"Ah."

The Dung Lord nods at the small kink-spring, sitting on the table. "A gigajoule?"

Hock Seng nods.

"And you have them to sell?"

Hock Seng shakes his head. "The way of making them."

"What makes you think I am a buyer?"

Hock Seng shrugs, forcing himself to hide his nervousness. There was a time when this sort of bargaining was easy for him. Second nature. But he wasn't desperate then. "If you are not, then there are others."

The Dung Lord nods. Finishes his coffee. A servant pours more. "And why do you come to me?"

"Because you are rich."

The Dung Lord laughs at that. He nearly spits out his coffee. His belly rolls and his body shakes. The servants freeze, watchful. When the Dung Lord finally controls his laughter, he wipes his mouth and shakes his head. "A fair answer, that." His smile disappears. "But I am also dangerous."

Hock Seng buries his nervousness and speaks directly. "When the rest of the Kingdom would have rejected our kind, you took us in. Not even our own people, the Thai-Chinese, were so generous. Her Royal Majesty the Queen showed mercy, allowing us to come across the border, but it was you who provided safe haven."

The Dung Lord shrugs. "No one uses these towers anyway."

"And yet you are the only one who showed compassion. An entire country full of good Buddhist people, and only you gave shelter, instead of forcing us back across the border. I would be dead by now if not for you."

The Dung Lord studies Hock Seng a moment longer. "My advisors thought it was foolish. That it would put me in opposition with the white shirts. Set me at odds with General Pracha. Maybe even threaten my methane deals."

Hock Seng nods. "Only you had enough influence to risk it."

"And what do you want for this wondrous bit of technology?"

Hock Seng readies himself. "A ship."

The Dung Lord looks up, surprised. "Not money? Not jade? Not opium?"

Hock Seng shakes his head. "A ship. A fast clipper. Mishimoto-designed. Registered and approved to transport cargo to the Kingdom and throughout the South China Sea. Under the protection of her Majesty the Queen…" He waits a beat. "And your patronage."

"Ah. Clever yellow card." The Dung Lord smiles. "And I thought you were truly grateful."

Hock Seng shrugs. "You are the only person who has the influence to provide such permits and guarantees."

"The only one who can make a yellow card truly legitimate, you mean. The only one who could convince white shirts to allow a yellow card shipping king to develop."

Hock Seng doesn't blink. "Your union lights the city. Your influence is unparalleled."

Unexpectedly, the Dung Lord forces himself out of his seat, stands. "Yes. Well. So it is." He turns and shambles across the patio to the edge of his terrace, hands behind his back, surveying the city below. "Yes. I suppose I still have strings I can pull. Ministers I can influence." He turns back. "You're asking for a lot."

"I give even more."

"And if you're selling this to more than one?"

Hock Seng shakes his head. "I do not need a fleet. I need one ship."

"Tan Hock Seng, seeking to restore his shipping empire here in the Thai Kingdom" The Dung Lord turns abruptly. "Maybe you've already sold it to others."

"I can only swear that it is not so."

"Would you swear on your ancestors? On your family's ghosts all walking hungry in Malaya?"

Hock Seng shifts uneasily. "I would."

"I want to see this technology you claim."

Hock Seng looks up surprised. "You haven't already started to wind it?"

"Why don't you demonstrate now?"

Hock Seng grins. "You're afraid it is a booby trap of some sort? A blade bomb maybe?" He laughs. "I do not play games. I come for business only." He looks around. "You have a winding man? Let us both see how many joules he can put into it. Wind it and see. But do be careful with it. It is not as resilient as a standard spring, because of the torque it operates under. It cannot be dropped." He points at a servant. "You there, put this spring on your winding spindle, see how many joules you can shove into it."

The servant looks uncertain. The Dung Lord nods agreement. A sea breeze rustles across the high garden as the young man sets the kink-spring on its spindle and settles on the winding cycle.

Hock Seng is suddenly seized by new worry. He confirmed with Banyat that he was taking one of the good springs, that it had passed QA, unlike the ones that always failed and cracked as soon as they started their winding. Banyat assured him that he should take one from a certain stack. But now, as the servant prepares to lean on his pedals, doubt flares. If he chose wrong, if Banyat was wrong… and now Banyat is dead under the feet of a crazed megodont. Hock Seng couldn't confirm one last time. He was sure… and yet…

The servant leans against the pedals. Hock Seng holds his breath. Sweat appears on the servant's brow and he looks over at Hock Seng and the Dung Lord, surprised at the resistance. He changes gears. The pedals turn, slowly at first, then faster. He begins cycling up through the gears as his momentum increases, jamming more and more energy into the kink-spring.