Chapter 9 chapter eight

"I lost thirty thousand." "Fifty thousand," Otto whispered. Lucy Nguyen stared at the ceiling, "Eighteen-five thousand? Or six thousand?" "Fourty thousand." Coyle-Napier put the glass of warm rice wine on the low table. "I lost four hundred thousand on that damned airship in Carlisle." Shocked, everyone at the table fell silent. "My God." Lucy sat up.After the afternoon drinking session, her eyes seemed a little blurred, "What are you smuggling, a seed bank that resists the second-generation tuberculosis bacteria?" On the balcony of Sir Francis Durek's bar, the participants in this conversation lay or sat.There were five of them, what Lucy called the "Farran Five."All staring out at the city, smoldering in the dry season sun, pouring wine down their mouths until they were dead drunk.

Anderson was among them.Half lying on his seat, he listened absently to their inarticulate complaints, the question of Ngaw's origin swirling in his mind.He later went and bought a bag of the fruit, which was now sitting between his feet.It seemed to him that the answer to the riddle was at hand, but he was not wise enough to grasp it.He drank warm Khmer whiskey and lost himself in thought. Ngaw is obviously not affected by rust or second-generation tuberculosis bacteria, even if it is directly exposed to the pathogen, it will not be infected; it is also apparently resistant to the genetically modified weevil and leaf curl disease in Japan, otherwise the fruit would not grow at all.Perfect product.The genetic material used in the development of this fruit is completely different from that used by Nongji and other calorie companies for genetic cracking.

There is a hidden seed vault somewhere in this country.Among them are thousands, if not tens of thousands, of well-conserved seeds, a real treasure trove of biodiversity.An endless strand of DNA, each with its potential use.The Thais are extracting answers from this gold mine to solve thorny survival problems.With access to a seed bank in Thailand, Des Moines' lab could unearth enough genetic code for generations to repel the mutant plague and live longer. Anderson shifted in his seat, wiping sweat from his brow, sulking alone.The answer was within reach, but he just couldn't grasp it.The nightshade has been brought back to life, and so has Ngaw.And Gibson is also missing in Southeast Asia.He wouldn't have known about Gibson if it wasn't for the clockwork girl who was overstaying illegally.The Kingdom of Thailand has achieved extraordinary success in protecting its secrecy.If he could pinpoint the exact location of the seed vault, he could even launch a surprise attack...they'd learned their lesson after Finland.

Outside the balcony, intelligent life seems to have stopped moving.Beads of sweat rolled down Lucy's neck and soaked her shirt.She was complaining about Thailand's ongoing coal war with Vietnam.With the current situation, she can't find the jade, because the army will shoot everything that moves.Coyle's sideburns were also wet.Not even a breath of wind. In the street outside, rickshaw pullers gather in narrow shadows.Their bones and joints protruded from the bare, taut skin, like skeletons glued to the skin.At this time, they only come out of the shadows when they are called for, and they only pick up passengers if they are willing to pay double.

Set in an abandoned expansion-period building, this dilapidated bar looks like a scab on the building's outer wall.On the wall next to the stairs leading to this balcony is a sign scrawled obliquely on the wall: Sir Francis Durek's Pub.Compared with the dilapidated surroundings, the sign was newly painted.It's the work of a couple of francs who decided to rename everything around it.The idiots who gave it their name have long since disappeared from the country: either eaten by a new type of rust in the jungle, or torn to pieces in the war for coal and emerald.But the logo remains here, perhaps because it amuses the place's owner—he even adopted it as his nickname; or perhaps no one has the energy to paint it out.Besides, the hot climate will make this thing fall off very quickly.

Regardless of its origin, the location of Durek's Bar is indeed good: between the ship lock of the sea wall and the factory area, the front of the dilapidated front faces the Victory Hotel. The Farang Five can sit here and get drunk while watching if any new foreigners wash up on the beach. There were other low-brow pubs nearby, for sailors who had cleared customs, quarantined, and thoroughly washed; but only here—the shabby high street between the dazzlingly white tablecloths of the Victory Hotel and Sir Francis's Bamboo huts - that's where foreigners who actually settle in Bangkok like to hang out in their spare time.

"What are you transporting?" Lucy inquired about Coyle's real loss again. Koiler leaned forward and lowered his voice so that everyone else's ears pricked up, "Saffron. It was brought from India." After a short period of calm, Cobb laughed, "I should have thought of the goods that are suitable for air transport." "The ideal airship to carry cargo. It is light in weight, and the profit from one transportation is more than that of opium." Koyle said, "The Kingdom of Thailand is still at a stage where it is impossible to crack the seed bank, and all politicians and generals want to Get it in your kitchen. They'd be proud of it if they could get it. I've already pre-sold mine. I would have gotten richer than you can believe."

"So you're broke now?" "Probably not. I'm talking to Sri Ganesha Insurance, they may pay a portion of the damage." Koyle shrugged, "Well, they are responsible for 80% of the loss. What about the bribes paid for the shipment of goods into this country? What about the fees for paying the customs agent?” He said with a bitter face, “It’s all paid. Only my skin can be left.” "That being said, I'm actually pretty lucky. It's only because the cargo is still on Carlisle's airship that it's still covered. I should buy the pilot who drowned in the sea. If they unload the cargo If the white shirt is burned on the ground, then it will become authentic smuggled goods. If that happens, I can only go to the street with cyanotic beggars and yellow card people."

Otto frowned, "It's about Carlisle's problem. If he wasn't so keen on politics, this kind of thing would never have happened." Coyle shrugged, "I'm afraid it's not certain yet." "Of course." Lucy cut in. "Half of Carlisle's energy is spent complaining about the white shirt, and the other half is used to hang out with Akarat. This attack is a message from General Pracha to Carlisle and the Ministry of Trade. And we are homing pigeons." "The homing pigeon is extinct." "You don't think we're going to be extinct? General Pracha would be more than happy to throw us all in Compret Prison if he thinks it's sending the right message to Akarart." Her gaze suddenly shifted to Anderson. , "You're too quiet, Rick. Have you got nothing to lose?"

Anderson moved his body, "Raw materials for production, and spare parts for the production line. About 150,000 baht. My secretary is still calculating the loss." He glanced at Coyle, "My goods are on the ground, insurance The company does not pay compensation." His conversation with Fusheng is still fresh in his memory.Fusheng initially pretended to deny it, complaining that the people at the landing field were too inefficient; but in the end he admitted that everything was lost, and he did not give all the bribes to the other party.The old Chinese was contrite, almost hysterical, and he seemed terrified of losing his job, so Anderson pressed on, insulting him, yelling at him, emphasizing his displeasure, driving him into terror and shaking him.Still, Anderson isn't sure if Fusheng has been taught enough.Maybe Fusheng will try to play tricks.Anderson frowned.Fusheng's job allowed him to focus on more important things. If it weren't for this, he would definitely pack up the old stuff and send it back to the building where the yellow card people gather.

"I told you earlier that this place is not suitable for a factory," said Lucy. "The Japanese opened it." "That's because they have a special deal with the royal family." "The factories of the Chaozhou Chinese are also doing well." Lucy frowned, "They have been here for several generations. In fact, they are no different from Thais. Compared with Chaozhou people, our status is more like yellow card people. Smart Farang should know not to be here Investing too much money. Doing business here is very unstable, as long as there is a turmoil or a coup, it will be ruined in a blink of an eye." "No matter what, we're going to get in trouble." Anderson shrugged. "Besides, Yates chose this place." "I also told Yates that it was a stupid choice to open a factory here." Anderson recalls the image of Yates, eyes shining with the light of a new generation of globalized economy. "Maybe he's not stupid. But there's no doubt he's an idealist." He drank the wine in his glass.The barkeeper was nowhere to be seen. He waved to the waiters, but they ignored him.At least one other guy was nodding his head - he was standing there asleep. "Aren't you worried that you'll have the same problems as Yates?" Lucy asked. Anderson shrugged, "That's not too bad. It's too fucking hot in here." He touched the tip of his sunburned nose, "I'm more suitable for living in the ruins of the north." The dark-skinned Ruan and Coyle couldn't help laughing when they heard this.But Otto nodded with a gloomy face, his nose was also peeling, obviously he couldn't adapt to the scorching sun in the tropics. Lucy took out a pipe, chased away a pair of flies, and put the smoking implements and opium pellets on the table.The fly slowly crawled away, but did not fly into the air.The insects also appeared to be dizzy from the heat.Down an alley, beneath the mottled façade of an old sprawling building, a group of children play by a freshwater pump.Lucy tapped her pipe, but looked at the children, "God. I wish I could go back to my childhood." Everyone seemed to lose interest in the conversation.Anderson picked up the bag of Ngaw at his feet, took out a fruit from it, and peeled the skin.He glanced at the translucent pulp, then threw the green-haired peel on the table and put the pulp into his mouth. Otto tilted his head and looked over curiously, "What is that in your hand?" Anderson took out a few fruits and distributed them to everyone, "I don't know either. Thais call this fruit Ngaw." Lucy stopped striking her pipe. "I've seen these. They're all over the market. They don't have rust?" Anderson shook his head, "It's true now. The farmer who sold me the fruit said they were clean and had a certificate." Everyone laughed, but Anderson just shrugged, not minding the sarcasm. "I left them out for a week and nothing happened. Cleaner than Udex rice." Seeing that he had eaten the fruit, the others ate the fruit in their own hands.Their eyes widened first, then they smiled with satisfaction.Anderson opened the bag and put it on the table, "Go ahead. I've eaten a lot." Everyone reached for the bag, and a pile of peels quickly piled up in the middle of the table.While eating, Coyle said thoughtfully: "This stuff reminds me of lychees." "Oh?" Anderson tried his best not to show too much interest, "Never heard of it." "Of course. I've had a drink before that tasted a bit like this. The last time I was in India to buy that batch of saffron, in Kolkata, a Pure Card sales rep took me to one of his restaurants, and I was in I drank there." "So, you think it's... a lychee?" "Maybe. The man said that the drink tasted like lychee. Of course, there may be no such fruit at all." "If this is really a pure card product, then I really can't figure out how it can appear here." Lucy said, "It stands to reason that this kind of fruit should be quarantined on Anglet Island, and the Ministry of the Environment will come up with a plan. There are thousands of reasons to tax it." She spat the core into her palm and threw it on the street outside the balcony, "But I see it everywhere, it must be local." She put her hand in Another fruit was taken out of the bag, "Do you know who might know about this..." She leaned back and shouted into the dark interior of the bar, "Hagrid! Are you still there? Are you awake?" Hearing that name, the people in the bar suddenly became commotion, and they all straightened up, like children caught by strict parents.Anderson couldn't help but feel a chill. "I wish you hadn't," he whispered. Otto frowned, "I thought he was dead." "God's elect never die of rust, don't you know?" At this moment, a figure staggered out from the shadows, and everyone's laughter was suppressed abruptly.Hagrid's face was flushed and sweaty.He looked at the Franco five-man team one by one with serious eyes. "Okay, everyone." He nodded to Lucy, "Are you still shipping those things?" Lucy shrugged. "Let's get by." She nodded toward a chair. "Don't just stand there, sit down and have a drink with us and tell your story." She lit her opium pipe, took a puff, and The man pulled the chair beside her and sat down heavily. Hagrid was a solid man, almost plump.Anderson has always wondered why every Grahamian pastor has a waistline much larger than that of his congregation.Hagrid waved for a drink, and to everyone's great surprise a waiter came to him almost immediately. "There's no more ice," said the waiter. "No, no ice. Of course not," said Hagrid, shaking his head. "I don't want to waste the bloody calories." The waiter brought the wine, Hagrid picked up the glass, drank it down, and immediately asked the waiter to bring him another glass. "It's good to be back from the country," he said. "You'll miss the joys of civilization." He saluted everyone with a second glass of wine, and downed it again. "How far have you been out?" asked Lucy, biting her pipe.Behind the fumes of burning tar, her eyes looked a little glazed. "We've almost reached the old border with Myanmar, at the Sanbao Pagoda Pass." He looked at them with pity, as if he saw their sins, "Investigate the expansion of the ivory beetle." "I hear it's not safe there," Otto said. "Who's in charge there?" "A man named Chanarong. He's not a problem, he's much easier to get along with than the manure giant and city officials. Not all bosses are after profit and power." Hagrid glanced at them pointedly. "For those of us who have no intention of plundering the coal, emerald and opium of the Kingdom of Thailand, the countryside is not dangerous." He shrugged, "Besides, it was Pa Kritipon who invited me to visit his monastery and observe the ivory Changes in beetle habits." He shook his head, "The devastation there is really chilling. The entire forest has lost not a single leaf, only the kudzu vines survived. The upper forest has disappeared, and there are fallen trees everywhere. " Otto seemed interested, "Is there any other resource available?" Lucy gave him a disgusted look. "Only the ivory beetle, you idiot. No one wants that kind of thing here." Anderson asked, "You said the monastery invited you over? But you're a Grahamist." "Pa Kritipon is very wise. He knows that neither Jesus Christ nor the teachings of Grahamism should be maliciously rejected. There are many overlaps in the values ​​of Buddhism and Grahamism. Noah and the martyr Pa Sebubu are two images that are completely complementary." Anderson almost couldn't help laughing, "If the master saw what the Grahamists did, I'm afraid he wouldn't see it that way." Hagrid seemed annoyed. "I'm not the type to advocate burning farmland. I'm a scientist." "No offense intended." Anderson took out a Ngaw and handed it to Hagrid. "You might be interested in this. We found it in the market." Hagrid looked at the fruit in surprise. "The market? Which market?" "They're available in all the markets," replied Lucy. "This thing appeared while you were away," Anderson said. "Take a look, it's a good thing." Hagrid took the fruit and observed it carefully, "It's really amazing." "Do you know what this is?" Otto asked. Anderson peeled a fruit for himself, listening intently to what Hagrid might have to say.He would never ask a Grahamian a straight question, but he was happy to have someone else do it for him. "Coyle thinks it's a lychee," said Lucy. "What do you think?" "No, it's not a lychee. That's for sure." Hagrid turned the fruit back and forth in his hands. "It looks like this may be a fruit named rambutan in ancient literature." Thinking, Hagrid said, "However, if I recall correctly, rambutans are somewhat related to lychees." "Rambutan?" Anderson kept a friendly expression on his face, trying not to show his inner inclinations. "That's a ridiculous name. Thai people call them Ngaw." Hagrid ate the fruit, spitting the large core into the palm of his hand.He examined the moist seed, stained with his saliva, carefully. "I wonder if it can reproduce." "You can plant it in a pot and see if it will sprout." Hagrid gave him an annoyed look. "As long as it's not the product of some calorie company, it's sure to germinate. The Thais never do neutered genetically cracked varieties." Anderson laughed. "Does Calorie make tropical fruit? I really don't know." "They made pineapples." "Oh, yes. I forgot." Anderson paused for a moment, "How do you know so many fruits?" "I studied biological systems and ecology at the University of New Alabama." "That's your Graham school, isn't it? I thought you were all learning how to set fire to fields." The others gasped at the obvious provocation, but Hagrid just gave Anderson a cold look. "Don't try to provoke me, I'm not that kind of person. If we really intend to restore the Garden of Eden, we need to have enough knowledge and spend enough time to accomplish this goal. Before coming here, I spent a whole In 2009, I carefully studied the Southeast Asian ecosystem before the era of contraction.” He reached out and took out another fruit, “This thing must make the calorie company envious and jealous.” Lucy also quickly rummaged through the remaining fruits in the bag, "Do you think it's possible to ship this thing back in a fast sailboat? You know what I mean, it's actually the same as what those calorie companies do, but in the opposite direction. I bet people will pay good money for it. New flavors, unique shape! Sell it as a luxury item." Otto shook his head. "You've got to convince them the thing isn't infected with rust. The red rind makes them nervous." Hagrid nodded in agreement. "Better not to do that." "But that's what the calorie companies do," Lucy pointed out. "They ship seeds, food, everything they want to sell. They're global. Why can't we try to do the same thing?" "Because doing so is not in line with the spirit of Graham's teachings." Hagrid said softly, "What those calorie companies have already reserved for themselves in hell. You shouldn't be so eager to join their ranks." Anderson laughed. "Come on, Hagrid, how can you blow an entrepreneurial mind like that? Lucy's right. We could even print your face on the side of the box," he mimicked The Grahamian's prayerful hand gesture, "You know, like Holy Church Quality Assurance or something. Safe like fortified soybeans." He said with a laugh. "What do you think?" "I will never participate in such blasphemy." Hagrid frowned, "Food should be produced in its original ecological location, and should not leave. Food should not be wasted in its limited time around the world in pursuit of profit Going around. That's what we've done before, and it brought us destruction." "Grahamism again." Anderson peeled another fruit, "There must be a shrine of money hidden somewhere in the Grahamism Orthodox Church, look at you fat bishops." "The lamb may get lost, but the correctness of the doctrine cannot be doubted." Hagrid stood up unexpectedly, "Thank you for your hospitality." He frowned at Anderson, but still stretched out his hand and grabbed another fruit, Then he left slowly. As soon as he left their sight, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "God. Lucy, why did you do that?" Otto asked. "That guy disgusts me. I left the Order because I didn't want a Grahamist priest watching over me at all times. You really must call Does having a priest make our stomachs sick?" Coyle nodded with a gloomy expression, "I heard that the joint embassy now has another pastor." "The pastor is everywhere, like maggots." Lucy waved at them, "Throw me another fruit." They started eating Hesse again.Anderson watched them, wondering if these well-traveled men had other ideas about the fruit's provenance.Rambutan is also a possibility, interesting.Anyway, aside from the bad news that the seaweed tanks and nutrient solution were destroyed, the day is turning for the better.Rambutan.Send that name back, and the Des Moines researchers have something to do.They will investigate and eventually discover the origin of this mysterious plant.There must be a historical record of this fruit somewhere.He'll have to go back and check the books to see if he can find... "Look who's here." Coyle whispered. Everyone turned around.It was Richard Carlyle, in a crisply ironed linen suit, climbing the stairs.Once in the shade, he took off his hat and fanned himself. "I fucking hate this guy," Lucy whispered.She lit her pipe again and took a deep drag on the cigarette. "What is he laughing about there?" asked Otto. "Hell, who knows. Didn't he lose an airship?" Carlisle stood in the shadows, eyeing and nodding to each of the customers in the room. "It's so hot today," he shouted. Otto glared at him angrily, blushing, and whispered, "If this guy hadn't been involved in bloody politics, I'd be a millionaire today!" "Don't be so exaggerated." Anderson threw another pulp into his mouth, "Lucy, give him a sip of your pipe. On such a hot day, I don't want to be kicked out by Sir Francis for fighting." Lucy's eyes were a little glazed after the opium, but she waved her pipe at Otto anyway.Anderson took it from her hand, handed it to Otto, and then stood up, holding an empty glass in his hand, "Who else wants to have something else?" Everyone shook their heads. Carlisle walked to the bar and grinned, "What have you done to poor old Otto?" Anderson glanced back at him. "Lucy's opium is very strong. I think he can't even walk, let alone fight." "That thing is the devil's poison." Anderson greeted him with an empty glass, "Yes, the wine is not bad." He glanced into the bar, "Where is Sir Francis?" "I thought you knew." "I don't think so," Anderson said. "Did you lose much?" "There are some." "Really? You don't look like you care at all." Anderson gestured to the rest of the Farang Five. "Everyone is complaining about you getting involved in politics and messing with Akarat and the Ministry of Trade. Look at you , the mouth is grinning almost to the ear. You look like a Thai." Carlisle shrugged.At this moment Sir Francis, well-dressed and hooded, came out of the back room.Carlisle asked for whiskey, and Anderson held up his own empty glass. "There's no more ice," said Sir Francis. "The gigantic hippopotamus driving the compression pumps is asking for more money." "Then give them money." Sir Francis shook his head and took Anderson's cup, "If they pinch your balls, you can negotiate with them, and they will pinch harder next time. Besides, I can't be like you Farang Bribing the Ministry of the Environment to get coal quotas." He turned, took a bottle of Khmer whiskey from the shelf, and filled the glass with precision.Anderson couldn't help but think of the rumors about this man, some of which might be true. Otto was shaking his head and muttering "damn airship" from time to time.He had previously said that Sir Francis, who originally held the title of Chao Phraya and was a senior aide to the royal family, was kicked out of the court in a power struggle.In addition, it is also said that he was once a servant of the manure baron and has now retired.There is also a saying that he is a Khmer prince. Since Thailand expanded and annexed Khmer in the East, he moved here incognito.Everyone agrees, though accounts vary, that he must have been in high office before—which explains his disdain for customers. "Pay," he said, setting the glass down on the bar. Carlisle laughed. "You know we're trustworthy." Sir Francis shook his head. "You've both lost a lot in the paddock incident, as you all know. Pay now." Carlisle and Anderson each took a few coins out of their pockets, "I thought our relationship was good enough," Anderson complained. "That's politics," said Sir Francis, smiling. "You may still be here tomorrow, but you may be swept away like expansion-era plastic on the beach. There are leaflets on every street corner, urging that the Captain Jaidi became a court advisor and conferred the title of Chao Phraya. If he really ascends, then you Farang..." He made a menacing gesture, "All have to disappear." He shrugged, "General Pracha The radio station called Jaidi a tiger, a hero, and the student union is also calling for the abolition of the Ministry of Trade and putting it under the management of white shirts. The Ministry of Trade has lost face this time. Farang and the Ministry of Trade are like Farang and the Ministry of Trade. as close as fleas." "well said." Sir Francis shrugged. "You do smell." Carlisle scowled. "Everybody smells. It's the fucking season." Anderson intervened in the mediation at the right time, "I think the Ministry of Trade must be angry after losing such a big face?" He took a sip of warm whiskey and frowned.It's not that he's not used to room temperature drinks, but that was before coming here. Sir Francis counted the coins and put them into the money box, "Minister Akarat is still smiling. But the Japanese demanded compensation for the loss, and the white shirt is of course impossible to pay, so Akarat must either be the tiger of Bangkok." Take responsibility for what you do, or lose face in front of the Japanese." "Do you think the Japanese will leave?" Sir Francis had a look of disgust on his face. "The Japanese are no different from calorie oligarchs. They are always trying to infiltrate. They won't leave." He walked to the other side of the bar, leaving these two people. Anderson took out an Ngaw and handed it to Carlisle, "One?" Carlisle took the fruit and observed it carefully for a while, "What the hell is this?" "Ngaw." "This stuff reminds me of cockroaches." He frowned. "Let me be clear, you guys don't want to experiment with me." He returned the fruit to Anderson, carefully wiping his hands on his pants. "Scared?" Anderson threw out the bait. "My wife also likes to eat new things. She can't control herself and is crazy about delicious food. Whenever there is a new food, she will try it." Carlisle shrugged, "I have to wait a week to see , if you don’t vomit blood, let’s talk then.” They changed to a more comfortable position on the high-back chairs, and they all looked out at the Victory Hotel, which was shining white under the cover of dust and heat.In the depths of an alley, a washerwoman was holding a basin, preparing to dry clothes beside an old high-rise building with mottled exterior walls.Another woman is washing her body, wearing a sarong, the fibers of the fabric clinging to her body.Naked children scurry through dusty alleys, jumping over patches of battered concrete—relics from an era of expansion more than a hundred years ago.Looking into the distance along the street, you can vaguely see the towering seawall, and on the other side of the seawall is the sea that is always ready to engulf the city. "How much did you lose?" Carlisle finally asked after a long time. "A lot. Thanks to you." Carlyle did not respond to the apparent sarcasm.He finished his drink and waved for another. "Is there really no ice?" he asked Sir Francis, "or is it because you think we'll be gone tomorrow?" "Ask me again tomorrow." "If I were here tomorrow, would you have ice?" Carlisle asked. A smile flashed across Sir Francis's face, "That depends on how much you pay the giant hippos and giant elephants that carry the goods. Everyone says that burning calories for Francois earns more...so Francie Sir Sis's bar is out of ice." "But if we all disappear, no one will come to drink. It won't matter if you have ice then." Sir Francis shrugged. "You are right." Carlisle frowned looking at his back, "The Colossus Union, White Shirt, and now Sir Francis. No matter where you look, you can always see a hand stretched out asking for money." "That's the price of doing business here," Anderson said. "But I wonder how you were smiling when you came in. I thought you had nothing to lose." Carlisle picked up the glass he had just filled and took a sip, "Just because I saw your frowning faces, as if your dog just died of second-generation tuberculosis. Anyway, although money was lost, at least no one took it We're locked in Compre's water dungeon. Isn't that worth laughing at?" He leaned towards Anderson, "It's not going to end like this. It's still early. Akarat still has a lot up his sleeve The trick is not out." "If you put too much pressure on the white shirts, they're going to bite back," Anderson warned. "You and Akarat are making too much noise. They don't like to hear things like tax and cap reform. Yes. You even talk about the wind-up man. Also, my assistant told me the same thing as Sir Francis just said: all the Thai newspapers call our friend Jay Di the Queen's Queen. Tiger, call him a hero." "Your assistant? You mean that paranoid guy in your office? The yellow card spider?" Carlisle laughed. Improvement, but I'm changing the whole game. You're all stuck in the age of shrinkage." "I'm not the one who lost an airship." "That's the cost of doing business." "I don't think losing one of the five airships can be said to be a 'cost'." Carlisle pouted.He leaned over to Anderson and whispered, "Come on, Anderson. This friction with the white shirt is not what you think. Some people have been waiting for them to fish over the line." He paused Just to confirm that the other party has understood what he said, "Our people even did something to make this incident happen as soon as possible. I just talked to Akarat himself, and I can assure you that things It will develop in our favor.” Anderson nearly laughed, but Carlisle just wobbled one index finger, "Believe it or not, but after I'm done, you're going to kiss my ass and thank me for the new tariff structure. And, we’re all going to have a big payout in our bank account.” "White Shirts never pay. Whether it's burning the farm, or confiscating the goods, they never pay." Carlisle shrugged.He glanced at the hot sunlight outside the balcony and said, "The rainy season is coming." "How did you know that?" Anderson looked sullenly at the air that was about to burn. "It's already two months late." “哦，别管那个，反正快来了。这个月也许不会来，或许下个月也不会来，但它会来的。” “来了又怎么样呢？” “环境部想为抽水泵换一些新部件。都是关键部件。有七台水泵要换。”他停顿了一下，“现在，你猜那些部件都在哪儿放着呢？” "tell me." “印度洋的另一边。”卡莱尔脸上露出鲨鱼般的笑容，但很快就消失了，“在加尔各答的某个吊架上。巧的是那吊架是在我的名下。” 酒吧中的空气像是突然被抽空了一样。安德森四下打量了一下，确定没有人在他俩旁边，“上帝啊，你这蠢货，你是认真的吗？” 现在一切都联系起来了。卡莱尔的吹嘘，还有他的自信。这个人像海盗一样，总有一种乐于冒险的精神。但是，卡莱尔是个老滑头，他究竟是虚张声势还是真心实意，的确难以区分。比如他说阿卡拉特很重视他的意见，实际上他可能只是和秘书谈过。不过是吹牛皮，人人都懂。但这件事…… 安德森刚想说话，但他看到弗兰西斯爵士走了过来，连忙转过身，摆出一副苦恼的表情。卡莱尔的眼中闪着恶作剧的光芒。弗兰西斯爵士将倒满酒的杯子放在他身边，但安德森现在已经无心喝酒了。弗兰西斯爵士刚一走开，他马上向卡莱尔靠过去。 “你准备以整座城市为人质来胁迫吗？” “白衬衫似乎已经忘了他们需要外人的帮助。我们正处于一个新的扩张时代，所有事情都是一环扣一环的，而他们的思考方式却仍然停留在收缩时代。他们不明白他们已经非常依赖法朗了，没有我们，他们根本活不下去。”卡莱尔耸耸肩，“到了这一步，他们就像棋盘上的小卒子。他们不知道是谁在挪动他们，而且也无力阻止，不论他们怎么尝试。” 他喝光杯中的威士忌，皱了皱眉，把杯子放在吧台上。“我们都该去给斋迪那个杂种白衬衫献花。他的工作做得太棒了。如果城市中有超过一半的烧煤水泵都不能工作……”他耸耸肩，“与泰国人打交道，最妙的地方就是他们都很敏感。我甚至用不着开口威胁，他们会自己衡量后果，并做出正确的选择。” “真是一场豪赌啊。” “有哪件事不是赌博呢？”卡莱尔朝安德森不屑地一笑，“没准儿我们明天就全都感染锈病的新变种死了，也可能我们会成为这王国中最富有的人。一切都是赌博。泰国人坐庄，我们也可以。” “要是我的话，我会用发条手枪指着你的头，用你的脑袋来交换水泵部件。” “勇气可嘉！”卡莱尔笑起来，“现在你的思考方式和泰国人一样了。但我也有自己的防护措施。” “什么措施，贸易部吗？”安德森撇撇嘴，“阿卡拉特没有足够的力量保护你。” “他自己用不着有力量。他有听命于他的将军。” “你喝多了吧。将军的朋友遍布军方的每个角落。要不是老国王在普拉查即将彻底击败阿卡拉特的时候进行了干涉，白衬衫现在已经掌握整个国家的实权了。” “世易时移。普拉查手下的白衬衫和他本人的行为已经惹怒了很多人。人们希望发生变化。” “你是说，叛乱？” “如果我们得到了王室的支持，还能算是叛乱吗？”卡莱尔满不在乎地伸手拿起吧台上的酒瓶，往自己的杯里倒酒。瓶子空了，杯子只倒了一半。他抬起一边的眉毛看着安德森，“啊，现在你倒是用心听了。”他指了指安德森的杯子，“你还准备喝吗？” “这是要达到什么目的呢？” “你想加入进来吗？” “为什么你会提议让我加入？” “你一定要问吗？”卡莱尔耸耸肩，“当年耶茨在这里建工厂的时候，他为巨象工会提供的能量付了三倍的价格，到处扔钱。从没见过那么有钱的。” 他朝其他外国人点点头——他们正玩着无聊的扑克游戏，等待白天的热量略微散去，好让他们可以继续工作、玩弄妓女，或是无聊地等着新一天的到来。“这些都是小孩子，穿着成人衣服的小孩子。但你不一样。” “你觉得我很有钱？” “哎，别演戏了。你的货都是我的飞艇运来的。”卡莱尔提醒道，“我知道你的补给品最初是从哪儿来的。”他意味深长地看着安德森，“我是说，在它们到达加尔各答之前。” 安德森装出漠不关心的样子，“那又如何？” “大多数都是从德梅因运来的。” “你觉得我值得一谈，就是因为我有来自中西的投资人？这里的每个人不都是从投资人那里获得资助吗？一个富有的寡妇想要做些关于扭结弹簧的实验，这也不是什么怪事。你小题大做了。” “我有吗？”卡莱尔环视酒吧，然后靠近他，“大家都在谈论你。” “怎么说的？” “他们说你对种子特别感兴趣。”他似有所指地用目光示意两人之间的那堆果皮，“如今我们或多或少都做些基因间谍的活儿，但你是唯一一个为此付出精力的人，唯一一个会打探有关白衬衫和基因破解者信息的人。” 安德森冷笑起来，“你和罗利谈过了。” 卡莱尔扬起头，“不知这样说你是否欣慰一点，从他口中打听你的事还真不容易。他不想跟我谈你的事。一点也不想。” “他的态度应该再坚定一些。” “他已经老了，不靠我帮忙，他得不到好的治疗。”卡莱尔耸耸肩，“我们在日本有客运代理人。你可没办法让他安然地再活个十年。” 安德森强迫自己发出笑声，“当然。”他用笑容掩藏自己的愤怒。他得处理掉罗利，或许连卡莱尔也得干掉。他太粗心了。他厌恶地看着桌上的Ngaw。他在所有人面前展示他最近的研究兴趣，甚至包括格拉汉姆教徒，他已经暴露了。过于放松警惕，轻易忘记底线，结果就是某一天在酒吧里，某个人狠狠地扇你一巴掌。 卡莱尔继续说：“如果我可以跟某人谈一谈，讨论一些问题……”他停了下来，棕色的眼睛搜索着安德森脸上可能露出的赞同表情，“我并不关心你是为哪一家公司工作。如果我对于你的兴趣的理解没错的话，那我们会发现双方的目标很大程度上是处于同一个方向。” 安德森用手指敲着吧台，思索着。如果卡莱尔失踪了，会不会引起一些人的注意？他甚至可以将此事归咎于狂热的白衬衫…… “你觉得你们有机会吗？”安德森问。 “泰国人之前就有暴力变革的事例。胜利酒店的建立，正是由于素拉旺首相在12月12日的叛乱中丢了脑袋，当然也丢掉了他的豪宅。泰国历史上政权转变是常有的事。” “我有点担心，既然你和我谈了这事，你会不会也和别人谈。知道的人也许太多了。” “我还能和谁谈呢？”卡莱尔朝“法朗五人队”的其他人那边抬了抬下巴，“他们什么都不是。我连一秒钟都用不着考虑。不过，你们的人……”卡莱尔停了下来，似乎在考虑措辞，然后倾身向前。 “你瞧，阿卡拉特对这种事很有经验。白衬衫到处树敌，他们得罪的不仅仅是法朗。我们的目标需要集合各方面的力量。”他啜了一口威士忌，细细地品味了一会儿，这才放下杯子。“如果能成功，对于我们将会相当有利。”他的眼睛紧盯着安德森的双眼，“特别是对你，对你在中西的朋友有利。” “你从中又能得到什么好处？” “当然是贸易。”卡莱尔咧嘴一笑，“如果泰国人对外开放，而不是维持今天这种荒谬可笑的防御姿态，我公司的业务就可以扩张。这是笔好生意。我没法想象你们的人是怎么过的：整天在安格里特岛上坐冷板凳，明知这国家处于饥荒之中，要卖掉仅仅几吨的尤德克斯大米或加强版大豆，还得四处求爷爷告奶奶。你们本可以进行自由交易，而不是呆坐在那座检疫隔离岛上。我觉得这种条件对你们是很有吸引力的，当然我也可以从中获益。” 安德森仔细打量着卡莱尔，试图确定可以在多大程度上信任这人。两年来，他们一起喝过酒，也一起嫖过妓，还曾签订过货运协议，互相握手。但安德森对他并没有什么了解。总部的办公室有一份关于他的档案，但内容不多。安德森思考着。种子库就在这国家的某处，如果有一个容易打交道的政府…… “有哪些将军支持你们？” 卡莱尔笑了起来，“如果我告诉你的话，你会认为我很愚蠢，无法保守秘密。” 这人是在吹牛，安德森认定了。他得想办法让卡莱尔消失，尽快，而且安静地消失。不能让他暴露自己的伪装。“听起来很有趣。或许我们得再见次面，谈谈双方各自的目标。” 卡莱尔张嘴准备回答，但他停了下来，仔细审视着安德森。他露出微笑，摇了摇头，“哦，不。你不相信我。”他耸耸肩，“好吧，这很公平。那你就等着吧。只要两天时间，你会被我打动的。到时候我们再谈。”他意味深长地看着安德森，“而且，我们会在我选定的地方见面。”他将杯中酒喝完。 “等什么？这段时间中会发生什么变化吗？” 卡莱尔将帽子扣在头上，微笑着说：“一切都会改变，亲爱的法朗先生。一切。”