37

The main compounds of Mishimoto & Co. lie on the far side of the water, in Thonburi. The boat makes its way into a khlong, Kanya's hand careful on the tiller. Even here, outside of Bangkok proper, whisper sheets complain of Pracha and the windup killer.

"Do you think it's a good idea to come alone?" Jaidee asks.

"I've got you. It's enough company for anyone."

"I'm not so great at muay thai in this state."

"Pity."

The company's gates and jetties rise over the waves. The late afternoon sun scalds down on them. A water merchant paddles close, but even though Kanya is hungry, she does not dare waste even a moment. Already the sun seems to be crashing out of the sky. Her boat thumps against the pier and she whips its bow rope around a cleat.

"I don't think they'll let you in," Jaidee says. Kanya doesn't bother answering. It's odd that he has remained with her all the way across the water. The pattern of his phii was to take interest in her for a short time, and then to drift off to other things and other people. Perhaps he visited his children. Made apologies to Chaya's mother. But now he is with her all the time.

Jaidee says, "They won't be impressed with that white uniform, either. They've got too much influence with the Trade Ministry and the police."

Kanya doesn't answer, but sure enough, a Thonburi detachment of a police patrol guards the main gates of the compound. All around, the sea and khlongs lap. The Japanese are forward-looking, and have built themselves entirely on the water, on floating bamboo rafts that are said to lie nearly fifty feet thick, creating a compound nearly impervious to the floods and tides of the Chao Phraya River.

"I need to speak with Mr. Yashimoto."

"He is not available."

"It concerns property of his that was damaged during the unfortunate raids on the airfields. Paperwork for reparations."

The guard smiles uncertainly. Ducks inside.

Jaidee snickers. "Clever."

Kanya makes a face at him. "At least you have some use."

"Even if I'm dead."

A moment later they are being led into the halls of the compound. It is not a long walk. High walls obscure all evidence of manufacturing activity. The Megodont Union complains that no work could be accomplished without a power source, and yet the Japanese neither import their own megodonts, nor hire the union. It reeks of illegal technology. And yet the Japanese have provided a great deal of technical assistance to the Kingdom. In return for Thai seedstock advances, the Japanese provide the best of their sailing technologies. And so everyone is exquisitely careful not to ask too many questions about how a ship's hull is built and if the development process is entirely legal.

A door opens. A pretty girl smiles and bows. Kanya nearly draws her spring gun. The creature before her is a windup. The girl doesn't seem to notice Kanya's unease, though. Simply motions in her stutter-stop way for her to enter. Inside, the room is carefully decorated with tatami mats and Sumi-e paintings. A man Kanya assumes is Mr. Yashimoto kneels, painting. The windup leads Kanya to a seat.

Jaidee admires the art on the walls. "He painted it all, you know."

"How would you know?"

"I came to see if they really have ten-hands in their factory. Right after I died."

"And do they?"

Jaidee shrugs. "Go look for yourself."

Mr. Yashimoto dips his brush, and in an exquisitely swift motion completes the painting. He rises and bows to Kanya. He begins speaking in Japanese. The windup girl's own voice follows a second later, with a translation into Thai.

"I am honored by your visit."

He is silent for a moment and the windup girl falls silent as well. She is very pretty, Kanya supposes. In a strange porcelain way. Her cropped jacket is open at the collar, revealing the hollow of her throat, and her pale skirt molds fetchingly around her hips. She would be beautiful, if she were not so perverse.

"You know why I'm here?"

He nods shortly. "We have heard rumors of an unfortunate incident. And have seen our country discussed in your papers and whisper sheets." He looks at her significantly. "Many voices are being raised against us. Most unfair and inaccurate observations."

Kanya nods. "We have questions-"

"I wish to assure you that we are a friend of the Thai. From times long ago when we cooperated in the great war to now, we have always been a friend of the Thai."

"I want to know how-"

Yashimoto interrupts again. "Tea?" he offers.

Kanya forces herself to remain polite. "You're very kind."

Yashimoto motions to the windup girl, and she stands and leaves the room. Unconsciously, Kanya relaxes. The creature is… unsettling. And yet now that she is gone, silence stretches between them as they wait for the translator to return. Kanya feels seconds ticking away, minutes being lost. Time, time, time moving. Storm clouds gathering and here she sits, waiting for tea.

The windup girl returns, kneels beside them at the low table. Kanya forces herself not to speak, not to interrupt the girl's precise whisking and steeping of the tea, but it is an effort. The windup girl pours, and as Kanya watches the creature's strange movements, she thinks she sees a little of what the Japanese desired from their engineered servants. The girl is perfect, precise as clockwork, and contextualized by the tea ceremony, all her motions take on a ritual grace.

The windup carefully does not observe Kanya in return. Does not say anything about her being a white shirt. Does not observe that in another context Kanya would happily mulch her. She ignores Kanya's Environment Ministry uniform entirely. Exquisitely polite.

Yashimoto waits for Kanya to sip her tea, then sips himself. Sets his tea deliberately on the table. "Our countries have been friends always," he says. "Ever since our Emperor made a gift of tilapia to the Kingdom in the time of your great scientist King Bhumibol's time. We have always been steadfast." He looks at her significantly. "I hope that we can help you in this matter, but I wish to emphasize that we are friends of your country."

"Tell me about windups," Kanya says.

Yashimoto nods. "What do you wish to know?" He smiles, motions at the girl kneeling beside them. "This one, you can see for yourself."

Kanya keeps her expression impassive. It is difficult. The creature beside her is beautiful. Her skin is sleek, her movements surprisingly elegant. And she makes Kanya's skin crawl. "Tell me why you have them."

Yashimoto shrugs. "We are an old nation; our young are few. Good girls like Hiroko fill the gap. We are not the same as the Thai. We have calories but no one to provide the labor. We need personal assistants. Workers."

Kanya carefully makes no show of disgust. "Yes. You Japanese are very different. And except for your country, we have never granted this sort of niche-"

"Crime," Jaidee supplies.

"-exemption," she finishes. "No one else is allowed to bring in creatures like this one." She nods unwillingly at the translator, trying to hide the disgust in her voice. "No other country. No other factory."

"We are aware of the privilege."

"And yet you abuse it by bringing a military windup-"

Hiroko's words cut her off, even as Kanya continues to speak. Hiroko instead picks up the vehement response from her owner.

"No! This is impossible. We have no contact with such technology. None!"

Yashimoto's face is flushed, and Kanya wonders at his sudden anger. What sort of cultural insult has she unwittingly delivered? The windup girl continues her translation, no trace of emotion on her own face as she speaks with her owner's voice. "We work with New Japanese like Hiroko. She is loyal, thoughtful, and skilled. And a necessary tool. She is as necessary as a hoe for a farmer or a sword for a samurai."