Chapter 13: Double Jeopardy
Your grasses up north are as blue as jade,
Our mulberries here curve green-threaded branches;
And at last you think of returning home,
Now when my heart is almost broken....
O breeze of the spring, since I dare not know you,
Why part the silk curtains by my bed?
"Spring Thoughts," Li Bai (A.D. 701-762)
The Chinese Republic flourished, with increased commerce and productivity in every city. Mao found himself sitting on an ever-increasing pile of gold in the national treasury, and even though the taxation rate was no different than in the despotism, the amount of funding that went to scientific research nearly doubled. Deng Xiaoping, who before the revolution had estimated that it would take 16 turns to complete research on feudalism, now predicted that 9 turns would be enough.
But only 8 turns later, the science advisor informed Mao that he had been wrong. Feudalism was learned earlier than expected.
While together they wondered how this could be, news from the embassy in Delhi reported that the Indians had begun a new project of a magnitude never imagined before. It was clearly another Great Wonder.
"How do you have to spend so much time and resources to build a book?" asked Deng. "Besides, Chinese strategists have learned the secrets of Sun Tzu ages ago."
Mao ignored him, only looking southward in the direction of India.
Great minds think alike, thought Mao.
I would do just the same as Mahatma Gandhi this time. He now knew that Indian research on the same subject had somehow been leaked to the Chinese, allowing them to finish at about the same time.
But then he looked at the report more closely, and noticed something strange.
"Calcutta?" It was the first time Mao had heard of the city. "Are you serious?" he asked the messenger.
The messenger nodded. "There can be no mistake about it. Calcutta, the tiny Indian settlement at the southeasternmost extreme of our continent."
Calcutta was only size 3, less than 70,000 souls strong. The population of Beijing was nearing 500,000. Mao did not even bother asking his ambassador for a detailed report about the town. Sun Tzu's Art of War would most definitely be completed in Beijing well ahead of the competition.
While Beijing started work on the new Great Wonder, the other cities took advantage of the opportunity to catch up on infrastructure and defense. Marketplaces, aqueducts, and libraries were constructed, and new military units were assembled, foot soldiers well-trained in the art of wielding a long iron spear known as a pike.
Mao noticed something else about the Republic that was different from before. Soldiers stationed in the cities no longer acted as peacekeepers for the people; rather, they focused on defense alone. Economic advisor Liu Shaoqi suggested that luxuries goods should be acquired to please the citizens. Surprisingly, the only two goods that India could offer were wines and furs, which China already had access to in the vineyards of Hangzhou and the forest near Nanjing. The new goods would have to come from Japan.
Liu volunteered to go to Kyoto to negotiate the deal. He spent many days scouring the streets for the best products, as the Japanese still had no idea of what a marketplace was. Of the four luxury goods that Japan had to offer, he picked his two favorites: a soft, attractive cloth called silk, and a powder called incense that emitted a pleasing aroma when burned.
Shogun Tokugawa had recovered his senses by now, and was extremely suspicious of any Chinese offers of trade. But the Japanese were still technologically backwards, and the offer of some ancient techniques was enough to satisfy Tokugawa's demands.
Silks and incense were brought to marketplaces all around China, making some citizens so happy they celebrated in the streets. Mao was satisfied with Liu's negotiations, but something still bothered him about it.
"Tell me," he asked Liu one day, "did the Shogun say anything strange when you closed the deal?"
Liu scratched his head. "Not that I remember," he said. "But when I was on my way out, I turned my head back to look at him one more time, and he was biting on his fingernails."
Mao frowned. "Which finger was he biting on?"
"I'm not sure I remember," Liu said, staring up at the ceiling while trying to recall the event. "Oh, I think it was his right index finger."
I have a bad feeling about this, thought Mao.
As if the omen were true, in 790 AD Oda Nobunaga appeared in Beijing one day with the same ridiculous demand.
"Our illustrious Shogun allowed you to trade with us only if you refrained from using your devious Chinese merchants' tricks," he fumed, "but clearly you cut our deal a little short. We request that you make up the difference for us now, by giving us contact with the Indians."
"Certainly," said Mao. He raised his head and shouted toward the entrance of the palace, "Ganesh Gupta! We need your help here once more."
The Indian worker had barely poked his head into the room when Nobunaga edged nervously away from him.
I will not fall for the same trick twice, he swore to himself.
Ganesh walked toward Nobunaga and extended a hand for him to shake, but the Japanese envoy kept a distance of several feet between them. Seeing no progress being made, Mao asked them to stop.
"Ganesh," said the Chariman, "our friend Nobunaga has made such a long and difficult journey to pay us a visit. What kind of gift would you suggest we give him?"
Ganesh pondered the situation for a moment, then spoke. "Lord Nobunaga, I know of the perfect gift for you. It has been handed down from my ancestors in India for thousands of years, and now I think is the right time that I show it to you."
Nobunaga turned to look at him but refused to approach.
That split-second was just enough time for the Indian's fast reflexes. Ganesh cocked his head back, made a quick but disgusting gargling noise, then launched a mass of yellowish-brown phlegm with incredible speed
SPLAT! onto Nobunaga's forehead.
"Aaaargghhhh!!" Nobunaga bellowed with rage. Then suddenly he bent over, coughed, and then deposited his morning breakfast on Mao's palace floor.
"Oh I'm sorry," apologized Ganesh. "I didn't know you were seasick." With that he hurried to clean up the mess.
Nobunaga stormed out of the palace and was so ashamed of his two miserable failures that he drew his katana and committed seppuku on the voyage back to Japan. His attendants, weeping with sorrow, delivered the tragic news to the Shogun.
"I will avenge my friend!" declared an enraged Tokugawa. "The next boat to leave Japan will not contain a single speck of incense or a shred of silk. Order the troops onto the galleys, we will destroy the Chinese for good this time!"
These Japanese never learn, thought Mao. But alas, the outbreak of war had ended the luxury trade, and there would have to be some other way of keeping the citizens entertained.
Defense minister Zhu De was soon back in Kaohsiung to lead the troops. A Japanese combined force of archers and spearmen had occupied the hill northeast of the city, but they were quickly surrounded by Chinese defenders, who entrenched themselves for a fierce battle.
But the Japanese archers made a surprise attack, wiping out the defending spearmen on the hills in the northwest. Furious, Zhu ordered his swordsmen to launch a counteroffensive as soon as the Japanese moved out of the rugged terrain in the hills.
The attack was a complete success. Not a single swordsman was lost, and the entire Japanese spearman division was destroyed, and the troops were now China's most seasoned fighters.
The Japanese archers attempted to escape, but were pursued and wiped out immediately thereafter. Shogun Tokugawa, however, was emboldened by the fact that a Japanese land unit had finally been victorious in battle, although short-lived. "Send the second wave of the invasion," he ordered. Two groups of swordsmen landed on Taiwan soon thereafter.
With only one spearman and a warrior defending Kaohsiung, the situation looked bleak for the Chinese. Zhu had already told Mao to prepare for Kaohsiung's fall, as his swordsmen had chased the Japanese archers too far away to come to the rescue.
The spearmen fell beneath the Japanese blades. But by some stroke of incredible luck, the second wave of the Japanese attack faltered, and the ragged warrior band in Kaohsiung butchered the attacking Japanese swordsmen to the man with their flint axes. The city was saved. They had bought enough time for Zhu to return and wipe out the rest of the Japanese.
Hearing of the close call at Kaohsiung, Admiral Zheng He retaliated, destroying two Japanese galleys in the Ryukyu Channel with his flagship
Shenlong. But there were too many ships this time for the Chinese fleet to handle.
Tokugawa is serious now, thought Mao. He ordered some more reinforcements to be sent to Kaohsiung from Shanghai.
During this time, Deng Xiaoping reported that Chinese researchers had developed a formal practice of engineering.
"Look, Chairman," he said. "We now have a bridge across the Yellow River. It is now easier than ever for our workers and troops to cross to the other side."
Mao was unimpressed. "Can you build a bridge from Shanghai to the island of Taiwan? That is what I really need right now."
Deng shook his head. "But there's a new topic I'd like research," he said. "We have some vague idea of how to develop longer, more powerful bows for our archers, enabling them to inflict much greater damage on the enemy. Plus, I hear that this leads to a new Great Wonder, Leonardo's Workshop."
Too preoccupied by events of the war to think about building a new Great Wonder, Mao gave his science advisor the funds and asked him to start working on it right away. Kaohsiung was still in trouble. Commander Zhu reported that another combined force of spearmen and archers had landed, and they even destroyed the mines in the northeastern hills.
But Mao was distracted by something else. It was the year 880 AD, and two Indian horsemen had been spotted in the vineyards outside Hangzhou, tearing up the grape vines as they recklessly passed through. The governor of Hangzhou, alarmed, informed Mao that he had an emergency at hand.
Gandhi was polite when Mao met with him, but clearly he was hiding something. "Nice to see you today, Mao," he said. "Would you like a nice vegetarian curry?"
"I don't think you put grapes in your curry, do you?" snapped Mao.
"What do you mean?" Gandhi looked confused.
"No, what do you mean to do, sending your horsemen into my vineyards? You have no enemy to the north, so what are your troops doing passing through my territory?"
The Mahatma grinned. "You are mistaken, Mao. We do have an enemy in the north."
Mao eyed him suspiciously. "Who is this unknown enemy you are after?"
Gandhi paused for a moment, leaned forward, and whispered, "It is you, Mao."
... to be continued