The New Weird by Jeff VanderMeer, Ann VanderMeer Page B

were suddenly drowned with pain and he staggered, but recovered to finish what he had evidently planned to say: "You Russians are natural bourgeoisie. It's not your fault. It's your turn."
    Savitsky was too tired to respond with anything more than a small smile. I felt that he agreed with the peasant and that these two excluded me, felt superior to me. I knew anger, then. Tightening the last rag on his left wrist, I made the spy wince. Satisfied that my honour was avenged I cast an eye over the map. "Here we are," I said. We were on the very edge of Cambodia. A small river, easily forded, formed the border. We had heard it just before we had entered this village. Scouts confirmed that it lay no more than half a verst to the west. The stream on the far side of the village, behind the temple, was a tributary.
    "You give your word you won't kill me," said the Vietnamese.
    "Yes," said Savitsky. He was beyond joking. We all were. It had been ages since any of us had been anything but direct with one another, save for the conventional jests which were merely part of the general noise of the squadron, like the jangling of harness. And he was beyond lying, except where it was absolutely necessary. His threats were as unqualified as his promises.
    "They are here." The spy indicated a town. He began to shiver. He was wearing only torn shorts. "And some of them are here, because they think you might use the bridge rather than the ford."
    "And the attacking force for tonight?"
    "Based here." A point on our side of the river.
    Savitsky shouted. "Pavlichenko."
    From the Division Commander's own tent, young Pavlichenko, cap-less, with ruffled fair hair and a look of restrained disappointment, emerged. "Comrade?"
    "Get a horse and ride with this man for half an hour the way we came today. Ride as fast as you can, then leave him and return to camp."
    Pavlichenko ran towards the huts where the horses were stabled. Savitsky had believed the spy and was not bothering to check his information. "We can't attack them," he murmured. "We'll have to wait until they come to us. It's better." The flap of Savitsky's tent was now open. I glanced through and to my surprise saw a Eurasian girl of about fourteen. She had her feet in a bucket of water. She smiled at me. I looked away.
    Savitsky said, "He's washing her for me. Pavlichenko's an expert."
    "My wife and daughters?" said the spy.
    "They'll have to remain now. What can I do?" Savitsky shrugged in the direction of the temple. "You should have spoken earlier."
    The Vietnamese accepted this and, when Pavlichenko returned with the horse, leading it and running as if he wished to get the job over with in the fastest possible time, he allowed the young Cossack to lift him onto the saddle.
    "Take your rifle," Savitsky told Pavlichenko. "We're expecting an attack."
    Pavlichenko dashed for his own tent, the small one close to Savitsky's. The horse, as thoroughly trained as the men who rode him, stood awkwardly but quietly beneath his nervous load. The spy clutched the saddle pommel, the mane, his bare feet angled towards the mount's neck. He stared ahead of him into the night. His wife and daughter had stopped their appalling wailing but I thought I could hear the occasional feminine grunt from the temple. The flames had become more animated. His other daughter, her feet still in the bucket, held her arms tightly under her chest and her curious eyes looked without rancour at her father, then at the Division Commander, then, finally, at me. Savitsky spoke. "You're the intellectual. She doesn't know Russian. Tell her that her father will be safe. She can join him tomorrow."
    "My Vietnamese might not be up to that."
    "Use English or French, then." He began to tidy his maps, calling over Kreshenko, who was in charge of the guard.
    I entered the tent and was shocked by her little smile. She had a peculiar smell to her ― like old tea and cooked rice. I knew my Vietnamese was too limited so I asked her if she