Slash and Burn

Civilai asked.
    “Who? L’Empereur ? Wherever he goes it won’t take him long to realize he’s not at the Oriental any more. I hear the Thais have running water without streptococci.”
    “Beds without crabs and creaks and odd smells? Sounds like heaven.”
    “He’ll be miserable. He’ll stay awake all night, get his photo shoot done at dawn’s crack, and be out of here before the smoke gets so bad he’s trapped. We might not even get a chance to sit down with him over a few beers and have a laugh together about the domino theory.”
    “Shame.”

11
    DROP ADDERS
    Senator Ulysses Vogal the Third was up with the unseen sun, although “up” suggests it was preceded by a “down” and the gentleman hadn’t dared lay his precious body on a mattress with such an obvious history. He’d spent the night in a chair wrapped in a blanket he’d brought with him watching the minutes crawl by on his luminous watch face. His personal assistant was a Chinese-American called Ethel Chin who could trace her Chinese-American ancestry back four generations, long enough to have lost the Chinese language entirely. She’d ordered room service for the senator but he’d taken one look at it and decided he’d make do with a cup of coffee and a cookie. He had work to do. By seven he was out in the forecourt of the Friendship overseeing the digging of a pit deep enough to bury the Sikorsky tailplane. They were inside the safety zone but the senator stood well back from the hole. They lowered the wreckage into it and sprinkled a thin layer of dirt on top. And there, Ethel Chin and Rhyme from Time took several pictures of the senator on his knees unearthing the wreckage. This was followed by several more pictures of the senator standing beside the excavated tailplane beaming like a fisherman. Then came a series with Senator Vogal listening earnestly to a group of communist natives: a tribe consisting of Daeng, Dtui, Geung, Phosy, and Commander Lit. They sat around the great white- bell-bottomed leader listening to his words of wisdom in return for an appearance in Time magazine. Rhyme promised to send them each a copy. Perhaps the editor wouldn’t notice that all of the listeners had their feet pointing directly at the American elder, or even that he’d know how disrespectful it was considered.
    And Siri had been right. It wasn’t even breakfast time and the senator was out of his sweat-stained khakis and back in his white suit sitting on the uncomfortable bench of the Mi8 with his overnight bag between his legs. He was a man eager to be anywhere else. His smile was all used up and he had nothing left on his face but anxiety. Everyone else stood in the morning mist waiting for the chopper to lift off. But the craft was silent. The rotors immobile. Vogal yelled at Ethel Chin who in turn yelled at Peach. The interpreter nodded and walked to a spot below the cockpit window where she called to the pilot.
    “The senator couldn’t help noticing that you aren’t flying,” she said. “Any problem?”
    The young captain had been on the radio.
    “They won’t give us clearance to fly,” he said. “They say the smoke’s really heavy over the mountains today. It’s on both sides of us, north and south. They aren’t prepared to risk it. They say we should stay here till the air clears. Hope for a bit of wind. See what it’s like later.”
    Peach nodded and walked casually to the hatch of the helicopter. She passed on the message with a Lao smile. The onlookers could see the senator’s reaction over her shoulder. It was loud and heated and certainly impolite. Peach stood her ground with her arms folded. But even before the tirade had run its course she turned her back and walked away from the helicopter. The senator yelled. She ignored him.
    “Five dollars says she quits,” said Civilai.
    “You haven’t got five dollars,” Siri reminded him.
    The old pair were at the back of the crowd of onlookers with pre-breakfast coffees in their hands and post-whisky-night hangovers in their heads. They’d deliberately missed the photo session and planned to miss the take-off, but the helicopter remained. The senator seemed suddenly aware that he was being watched and climbed down the steps of the chopper. He performed what some later speculated might have been a polite Lao nop to the onlookers, although others suggested he’d merely been catching mosquitoes. He then walked to Peach who was leaning against a tree. He talked more