A Mighty Endeavor

Chapter Two TASK DEFINITION

“Nell, there’s a telegram for you. From Switzerland.” It was a convention in this most unconventional of all households that telegrams from Geneva should be passed to Eleanor Gwynne first. She would take a quick look at the contents and decide whether it would cause an explosion or not. Usually, the answer was that it would; then some hasty diplomacy would be needed to prevent another row breaking out between Phillip Stuyvesant and Loki.

“Thank you, ducks.”

Dido Carthagina grinned conspiratorially and handed the envelope over. “Oh, it really is for me.” There was a pause and then a resigned sigh. “It’s relayed from Osborne in England. I’d better see Phillip about this right away.”

“They’re all in the living room. Whatever is going on has caused some serious angst in there.”

“Europe, probably. Phillip spent hours sitting, staring out the window, when he got back from Washington. Heading in?”

“Of course, ducks.” Eleanor flashed a smile at Dido and turned to the door of the living room. Quietly, she felt a little sorry for her friend. Once, a long time ago, Dido had made a bad decision, one that had catastrophic consequences for a lot of people. She’d never trusted her own judgment since and found making even simple decisions difficult. Like whether to disturb a meeting with an important message or what to order in a restaurant. Generally, she waited for other people to make the decisions for her. It was a passive way of living and one that the gregarious and social Eleanor found hard to understand. Mentally, she shrugged the reflection off and opened the door.

“Hi, Nell. Welcome to the plotter’s cabal.” Igrat was sprawled out on a couch, one leg hooked over the arm. The lighting in the room was dimmed right down. With Igrat’s pose and the number of empty glasses around, the place looked like a seedy night club after a very busy evening.

Across the room, Phillip Stuyvesant was looking through a stack of papers. He glanced up and saw the envelope in Eleanor’s hand. “Message from Britain?”

“In a way, ducks. It’s from Osborne via Geneva. In code. He says there’s trouble over there and he has something we want. That’s rare. Usually when I get a message from the family, it’s because they’ve done something foolish and need me to bail them out. I assume it came through Geneva because the lines from Britain are down. What’s going on?”

“Halifax took over from Churchill and he’s signed an armistice with Germany.”

Eleanor went white. “You are joking, ducks? How did that happen?”

“We don’t know, I need a constitutional expert to explain it to me. But, the outcome is clear. The war’s over, for a while at least. This so-called armistice won’t last long. The whole situation will break out again and we’ll be right in the middle of it. I’ve just been asked to work out how Germany plans to fight the whole world single-handed.”

“Guess what? I’m going to be the bosses secretary in a new Washington Department, the Economic Intelligence and Warfare Section.”

Lillith also had a file and had reeled the name of her new appointment off without a hitch. “We’re all going to be in it, I guess.”

Stuyvesant nodded. “We’ll be staffing the section from us. I need people there who know how I work. Igrat’s going to be our courier again. Achillea and Henry, enforcement as usual. No sneaking off into the Navy this time, Achillea.”

“You want Mike for anything?” Mike Collins was the closest thing Igrat ever had to a long-term partner.

Stuyvesant shook his head. “He’s a lightweight, a butterfly. He’s got nothing to offer except the ability to throw good parties. If we need one of those, we’ll call him in. Nell, we’ll need you to be a liaison with the British, especially when the Nazis turn this armistice into an occupation.”

“You think they’ll do that?” Naamah spoke from a corner.

“Of course. Their occupation of Europe can never be stable while Britain is unoccupied. The British Isles are the great fortress that guards Europe from an attack based in the west or south and a perfect springboard for just such an attack. Which role it plays depends on whether the people in Europe are on the British side or not. Or, in this case, whether Britain is on their side. An Armistice won’t cut it. Somehow, the Germans will occupy and not too far into the future. I can’t believe that Halifax doesn’t understand that.”

“And then the British will fight.” Eleanor sounded saddened, more by the news that her birth country had folded than by the prospect of a war being fought on English soil for the first time in centuries.

“And then they will fight.” Stuyvesant agreed. “All Halifax will have achieved in the end is to shift the battle from everywhere but England to England itself. The English are going to find out what it’s like to be occupied and when they do, they’ll start a resistance movement. Then they’ll find out what happens when resistance movements start fighting occupying armies. The next few years are not going to be good ones, people. What we have to worry about is working out how to strike at Germany from bases in the USA.”

“Bombing. At least that’ll mean no more fighting in the trenches.”

Eleanor sounded pleased with that. Stuyvesant shook his head. “Strategic bombing sounds good, but it doesn’t end with bombing armies. It goes to bombing the depots where those armies store their supplies, then the railways that supply those depots and the factories that produce the goods that are transported by the railways. It ends with the people who work in those factories and then goes beyond that to killing those workers in their homes along with their families. We’re not ending the war in the trenches, Nell; we’re extending it backwards all the way to the worker’s family in their house. This war is going to be bloody.” Stuyvesant looked out of the window. “Anybody want to bet on how long it will be before we have to have a blackout in Washington?”

“But the Americans are opposed to us and the Japanese are not. The Japanese offer us arms and equipment; the Americans do not. The Americans criticize every move we make and the Japanese support us. Why, then should we position ourselves against the Japanese?” Marshal Plaek Pibulsonggram made the points carefully and rationally. In truth, he was afraid of the woman who was sitting in front of him with an enigmatic smile on her face. A true Thai smile, he thought, one that could mean anything and everything.

“We’re not quite positioning ourselves against the Japanese. Not yet, at any rate. What we are doing is strengthening our economic base so that we can stand on our own feet. If we have to remain within the Japanese sphere of influence, then the proposed plan will allow us to do so on something closer to equality. If we do not, and I believe that our interests are elsewhere, then our plans will enable us to stand against the pressure the Japanese will place upon us. At the moment, this is a plan that grants us more freedom of action. That is all. As for the Americans, they are opposed to us because they see our nationalist movement as being akin to fascism. President Roosevelt is opposed to fascism with every fiber of his being. A part of our plan is to teach him that nationalism in a country such as ours is not fascism but a simple desire to rule our own lives. Expressed that way, the Americans will sympathize with us and come around to our side. And soon, they will be seeking every ally they can find.”

Marshal Plaek nodded in agreement at the last comment. “But, the Japanese offer us arms, equipment, aircraft. At prices we can afford. We need them and the Americans will not sell.”

Princess Suriyothai Bhirombhakdi na Sukothai dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement. “The Japanese offer us aircraft and weapons at a cash price we can afford. It is the political price that we cannot countenance. We are not short of goods we can sell in times of war. We produce enough rice and fish to feed most of the region. We produce gold and silver for export. We make the finest silk in the world and produce some rubber. Money is not a problem Field Marshal, not really. We are a hardy people; we can go short inside our country if doing so will make us strong. It is political strength we lack. In most of the world, people would find it very hard to find us on a map. The movement towards Japan saves in areas where we have a sufficiency and costs us where we are gravely deficient.”

Marshal Plaek considered the logic and found it did make sense. “So, what does your Highness recommend?”

“Field Marshal, your plans to modernize the Army must be accelerated. We are adopting German-designed equipment, mostly to be licensebuilt at Lopburi. That equipment must enter service without delay. The German advisors we hired in the early 1930s have worked wonders with our forces and we must build on that. We must surpass our teachers, Field Marshal, and we have little time to do it in. We must adopt new ways, for the world has changed around us and the old ways are gone forever. There is an Air Force officer, Wing Commander Fuen, who has ideas on how to organize air support for the ground forces that are a remarkable advance on anything I have heard of. I believe they are worth considering.

“But it our political and economic strength we must attend to. That is why we will be suggesting that the great Hong Kong trading groups consider moving their headquarters to Bangkok. With Britain surrendering to the Germans, Hong Kong will not remain out of Japanese hands for long. The Hongs will be looking for a new home and we need to get them here. For that, we have to make many changes. We have telegraph connections in-country and a spur line down to Singapore. We must spend all the money we need to need to in order to make those telegraph connections as good as any in the world. With Britain out, India and Australia will be separated greatly in distance. We can become the bridge between them.”

“When one village has fish but no rice, and the other has rice but no fish, great wealth will not come to either village but to the man who builds a bridge between them.” Field Marshall Plaek quoted the Thai proverb thoughtfully. He could see where she was going with this. “But this depends on India and Australia staying in the war.”

“It does, and that is the first obstacle that we must overcome. But, if they do, then the center of Indian mass in particular is here.” Her finger tapped a map. “In Singapore. Indian must retain the great fortress of Singapore. But, it is an indefensible fortress against land attack. If the enemy holds the Malayan peninsula, Singapore will fall. The front line of defense for Singapore is not here at the Johore Strait, but here.”

Her finger moved and tapped the Mekong River. “And that makes us a very valuable ally for the Indians. An ally who will link us to the Americans again.”

“If India stays in the war.”

“Exactly, Field Marshal. If India stays in the war.”

“Does anybody have any idea what is going on?” Victor Alexander John Hope, 2nd Marquess of Linlithgow and Viceroy of India since 18 April 1936, was mightily offended. He had been the driving force behind the implementation of the plans for local self-government embodied in the Government of India Act of 1935. Those provisions had led to government led by the Congress Party in five of India’s eleven provinces. He had been quietly proud of that achievement. Yet he had torn it down when his appeal for unity in the face of Britain’s declaration of war on Germany resulted in the resignation of the Congress ministries. He got his Indian declaration of war on Germany at the cost of seeing his life’s work and proudest moments destroyed. Now, Britain had surrendered and nobody had even bothered to tell him what was happening or why it had taken place. It was an insult of monumental proportions and the Marquess of Linlithgow was not a man who forgot gratuitous insults.

“Your Excellency, there is no word at all from London. It is as if London has completely forgotten about us. I have heard from Prime Minister Robert Menzies in Australia, for all the good that has done us. The Australians have heard nothing either and they are not best pleased by the fact. Their National Party has paid a political price for entering the war on Britain’s side and to be left in the dark like this is unconscionable. It has insulted them, My Lord.” Gerald Tarrant, Private secretary to the Viceroy, spoke sadly. “They found out the same way we did, by hearing it on the World Service news broadcast.

“Outrageous. Sir Martyn, has the word spread to the Congress Party yet?”

The remark was addressed to Sir Martyn Sharpe, Assistant Secretary for Domestic Affairs and a protégé of the Marquess. Sir Martyn’s official duties were to look after the routine activities of his Department. In reality, his job was to maintain relations with the Indian politicians in the Congress Party. It was the kind of unofficial, back-door communications channel that the British seemed to thrive upon. One uniquely suited to India’s environment. In the frantic hours that had passed since the news had been broadcast, Sir Martyn had spoken, on an entirely unofficial basis of course, with Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, leader of the Congress Party. That conversation had not been helpful in maintaining his tranquility.

“Your Excellency, I can quote the initial reaction of the Congress Party to this meeting. Their position is and I do quote exactly, ‘You have lost the war you forced on us, now you can leave while we make peace. Next week will be soon enough.’ They offer us help in packing our bags and making our way to the railway station.”

“Damned cheek.” Tarrant growled to nobody in particular.

“Gerry, they have to say that. Their own membership will tear them apart if they said anything else. Their real position is held within those two words: ‘next week’. They want to find out what the hell is going on as well before they commit themselves.”

Lord Linlithgow frowned at Sir Martyn’s final choice of words, but let the matter pass. Everybody was frustrated and edgy from the knowledge that great things were afoot and they knew nothing of them. “I suppose it was inevitable they would demand peace. They never wanted a part of this war in the first place.”

“They never wanted into this war, that is true, Your Excellency. To be honest, your decision to take us in was almost as offensive to them as we have found London’s treatment of us has been. That point was made, quite gently I may say, by Nehru who described the situation as ‘Karmic Justice’.”

A smattering of laughter ran around the room. Lord Linlithgow shook his head, “I can see their point on that. In retrospect, I think the Indian declaration of war was not one of my better hours.”

Privately, Sir Martyn agreed, but he was not going to say so.

“Nevertheless, India is at war and I suspect that having found themselves in it, they do not want out of it at the abrupt and unsolicited command of a dubiously legitimate Prime Minister in London. They want to end the war by their own hand and leave it with their heads held high. To accept this diktat from London would leave them crawling way like whipped dogs. They, also, are offended, Your Excellency. Their offer to help us pack our bags and make our way to the railway station should be seen in that light. It isn’t cheek, Gerry; it’s their way of telling us they want to work with us on our departure, not against us.”

There was a learned nodding of heads around the conference table.

Subtle meanings attached to apparently inconsequential words were meat and drink for those present. There was a wealth of experience in doing just that around the table.

“Which takes us to the next question.” Harold Hartley, known to all as HH, asked the obvious question. “Are we still at war with Germany?”

“That, at least, I can answer.” Lord Linlithgow answered firmly.

“India is a Dominion, not a colony. We declared war by our decision; we end that war by our decision. We may take our lead from London, if they deign to give us one, but the decision is made here, not there. And so, the answer is a clear yes. We are still at war with Germany and will remain so until we, or our successors, decide otherwise.”

“That also is the Australian position, your Excellency. Prime Minister Menzies points out that Australia had its reasons for declaring war and that those are not necessarily changed by a British surrender.” Tarrant relayed that input with a certain level of relish.

“That is absurd.” Sir Richard Graham Cardew, the Cabinet Secretary, had gone bright red. “If the India Office commands, then it is our part to obey. The final authority lies there, not here.” Cardew was one of the oldest men at this table; his experience over the last 30 years had formed his opinions and attitudes to the point where they were set in stone.

“That may have been the case once, Sir Richard; it is not now. India a Dominion heading towards independence.”

“Never!” Cardew’s interruption was explosive.

“Inevitably, Sir Richard, and I will thank you not to interrupt me again. India is inevitably heading towards independence and most of us will live to see that day. The question is not whether independence will happen, but when and under what terms. Do we simply walk out and leave or do we arrange a slow and gracious hand-over of power? Sir Martyn, in your experience, what is the Congress Party position on this? Their real position, not the one for public consumption.”

Sir Martyn thought carefully. “Their various demands that we should simply leave now are indeed for public consumption. Or, perhaps I should say, to the rank and file membership of their party for whom they have to display a continued militancy. Their real position is that they are prepared to accept an interim regime provided there is a steady visible transfer of power. I except Gandhi from this of course; he demands we quit now and he means every word of it. The wretched man is quite impossible, I fear. But, your Excellency, an early casualty of that transfer process will have to be your own position. The place you occupy must be occupied by an Indian. Probably Nehru. And membership of the Commonwealth is a likely casualty also. Not in the immediate future, perhaps, but at some time, an independent India will sever relations there.”

“That is outrageous. You betray us, Sir Martyn.” Cardew was deep crimson and appeared on the verge of a stroke.

“Sir Richard, I have warned you before about interrupting others here. Once more and I will ask you to withdraw.”

“There is no need for that, Your Excellency. I will not stay here and listen to treason.” Cardew flung his chair back and stormed out of the cabinet room. The crash as the door closed behind him caused the papers on the great conference table to flutter. Lord Linlithgow raised an eyebrow at the disturbance.

“Pray continue, Sir Martyn. I find your insight most important.”

“Well, your Excellency, the position of an Indian as a replacement for the Viceroy is essential for any agreement on a transition. It will be a sign of real power and authority that will cause the rank and file of the Congress Party to accept much else. Leaving the Commonwealth will be more of a symbolic gesture, especially in the light of today’s events. It will be a dramatic breaking of ties that will also justify much else. It may even make acceptable India staying in the war. There is an interesting aside to that question; we speak of India’s membership of the Commonwealth but what of the position of Britain? Is the government in London the legitimate government of Britain? If so, should it remain in the Commonwealth? If it is not, and there forms a Government in Exile, should not that entity be the legitimate representative of the British people within the Commonwealth?”

“It is lucky that Sir Richard stormed out after all. Had he heard you say that, he would now be dead on the floor from apoplexy and poor old HH here would have weeks of paperwork to do.” Linlithgow looked around the room.

“In that event, I would feel it my duty to offer him every assistance within my power. But, your Excellency, my point remains; Congress can be persuaded to stay in the war.”

“You believe that’s essential, don’t you?” Linlithgow’s voice had a note of sympathy within it. He was well aware that Sir Martyn’s wife was Jewish. Indeed, that was one factor that had influenced him in placing his trust with the man. Somebody who had the strength of character to do what he felt was right despite the possible effects on his career and the unspoken but very real social objections to the marriage also had the strength to do his work well.

“I do, Your Excellency. There are some things that are such incarnate evil that any decent man should stand against them regardless of the price the act must demand. I believe that Prime Minister Churchill understood that.”

The Marquess of Linlithgow nodded. “And so does the Viceroy of India.”

“Is there no sign of Mister Churchill?”

Sir Edward Bridges needlessly consulted the reports he had received and shook his head. “We traced him as far as Oxford and then kept all the roads out of Oxford under surveillance, but I fear Winston was not detected by any of the patrols. I can only presume that he is still in Oxford.”

“That would be uncharacteristic of the man. He was always one for action, no matter how ill-advised. He will be on the move. With his affection for the French, he will choose to go there. Are all the roads south from Oxford under surveillance?”

“They are, Prime Minister. But, how completely that surveillance has been maintained is another matter entirely. We British do not have an overweening police force. We do not even see the need to arm our police. As an orderly people used to the rule of law, we do not have the need for either large numbers of police or to have them armed. In this case, to maintain surveillance of all the thoroughfares, ranging from the trunk roads to farm lanes, is beyond them. And then there are the trains, of course.”

Halifax drummed his fingers impatiently. “It is apparent, I think, that a small, well-trained police force as we have now is an estimable thing indeed. But the times have changed and many pairs of eyes will be needed on our streets. We must be ready to reinforce our existing police force with an auxiliary police unit, one whose loyalty can be absolutely guaranteed.”

“I do not think the British people will take kindly to the return of the black-and-tans, Prime Minister.”

Halifax looked shocked. “Sir Edward, I mean no such thing. Placing a paramilitary force on the streets would be an outrage. I simply mean recruiting well-meaning citizens to assist our existing police force and provide a presence where otherwise limited numbers would preclude the police from doing so themselves. I wish the Home Office to see to the formation of such a unit immediately.”

And to hell with the Cabinet or any form of consultation, thought Bridges. If this isn’t going to turn into a paramilitary force on the streets, then nothing will. He had a decision to make, one that had kept him awake almost all the previous night. There were a considerable number of very senior civil servants abroad at the moment, including a large party in Canada and the United States. They had been discussing arms purchases and other war material acquisition programs with American businessmen, all with the aim of ensuring American industrial support for the faltering British war machine. There were already discrete warnings that none of those men would be returning to Britain. Indeed, the words ‘Government in Exile’ had also been whispered. All they needed was a figurehead and support from the Dominions and the threat could become real.

Was it a threat? Bridges had to ask himself that question. If it is, should I be part of it? Should I drop my position here, the authority I have and the influence I have built in exchange for a life of exile? He thought of his house, his gardens and his beloved fishpond. Should I abandon those with a strong possibility of never seeing them again? There was another problem, or, rather, another aspect to the choice. He was well aware of Lord Halifax’s limitations. The man was an appeaser, a temporizer, a man who tended to agree with whoever he was speaking to. Bridges had a strong feeling that Butler, now Foreign Secretary in Halifax’s place, had been a much stronger driving force behind the coup than he admitted.

Bridges stopped himself sharply. Coups didn’t happen in Great Britain; they were the preserve of small, far-off countries that mattered little in the scheme of things. But how else would one describe what had happened the day before? Bridges guessed that if he threw in his lot with those who had decided to refuse the call home, Halifax would be surrounded by those whose beliefs had caused this situation. Do I, Bridges, not owe it to the country to remain here, to keep the country running smoothly and to avoid the excesses that would otherwise surely take place?

“Well, Sir Edward?” Halifax sounded annoyed.

Bridges shook himself free from his mental debate and postponed it for another time. “An excellent idea, Prime Minister. I will set the necessary wheels in motion. Now, Prime Minister, there is the problem of the Dominions. They still have had no official word of what has happened here. We need to brief them on what has happened and why and we need to ask them to follow our lead in accepting the terms of the Armistice. We need to give the impression at least that we are consulting with them on this matter.”

“There is nothing to consult about and nothing to discuss. The terms of the Armistice are binding upon them as much as they are upon us here. They will obey them.” Lord Halifax crossed his arms, right hand over his withered left arm. It was an intimidating pose from a Prime Minister. In common with any civil servant, Bridges was skilled at reading body language. Halifax was signalling that his mind was closed to any argument.

Nevertheless, Bridges felt honor bound to give it one more try.

“Prime Minister, this may be true with regard to the colonies that are ruled directly from London. But with the Dominions, we are dealing with essentially independent states that are self-governed. They declared war on Germany on their own account and they will make peace on their own account. We must go through the motions of discussing the situation with them. We must explain ourselves and convince them that ours is the route to follow. A blunt order from us is by far the least effective means of gaining their compliance. Our relations with them have a certain level of choreography. We ask them and they oblige. We make a discrete suggestion and they, after some thought, agree. If, by chance we must step on their toes we beg pardon and they smile and dismiss it as being of no consequence. But sadly when we give direct orders they tell us to go boil our heads. If you wish to count upon Imperial support for the actions you have taken, then I strongly urge you allow the Colonial and Dominion Offices to reopen communications and that we consult with them.”

“We shall indeed do that, Sir Edward. The Colonial and Dominion Offices will communicate the terms of the Armistice with Germany that we have signed and they will be informed that these terms are binding upon them also. The matter is settled; there is no need for additional consultation. We will hold them responsible for completing their part in the terms we have found acceptable. There is no need for weakness in this matter.”

Sir Edward Bridges was aghast. “Prime Minister, I must protest. A preemptory message of the kind you propose will have the most disastrous of effects upon our relations with the Dominions. A conciliatory tone, a gesture of consideration need not imply any irresolution on our part, only a desire to resolve what amounts to a very inconvenient situation for everyone. It will even be seen as a sign of strength, that we consider our position to be so secure and well-founded that it will withstand any objection made to it. We cannot drive the Dominions, Sir. We must lead them.”

“You presume much, Sir Edward. And so do the Dominions. They hide behind our skirts while profiting from Imperial Preference. This country carries the burden of their defense and little thanks we get for it. When I was Viceroy in India, I tried to discuss issues with them and they defied me. When I showed them the rod, they deferred to me. That is the way it has always been, Sir Edward; that is the way it will always be. Arrange for the message to be sent by the Colonial and Dominion Offices. Immediately.”

Or I will replace you with somebody who will do what I order. That’s what you have left unsaid, isn’t it? Bridges felt depression swoop down upon him, but mixed with it was a sense of relief. His belief that he had a way out was proven false. He was trapped here by his own existing position and his own sense of duty. He had to remain in office in order to try and ensure that the country and the Empire ran smoothly.

“Is it true?” Captain Edgar Porteous Woollcombe guessed what the answer would be before he got a response.

“It’s true. Winston is gone; Halifax is Prime Minister. He’s signed an Armistice with Germany.” Admiral James F. Summerville looked stricken, as if repeating the news somehow gave it extra weight. “You got here just in time by the look of it.”

“What do you mean, Sir?”

“I received a message from the Admiralty this morning. It advises us that an Armistice has been signed with Germany and we should govern ourselves in accordance with standing order number 03-9839. Well, I looked up that order and it says that our orders in the event of England being forced to capitulate are to continue to prosecute the war against Germany under the direction of the governments of the Commonwealth countries. In this event, we will govern our operations to sink, burn and destroy enemy forces and personnel without mercy until victory has been achieved. All signals, orders or communications from Britain directing a surrender or cessation of hostilities prior to the defeat of Germany being achieved are to be considered false and disregarded.”

“Oh.” The import of the message was clear; the fleet still in the United Kingdom was trapped but the ships abroad were being slipped off the leash. A little bit, anyway. Perhaps it would be better to say the leash was being placed in new hands.

“Exactly, Captain Woollcombe. I propose to contact the Viceroy of India to place this squadron at his disposal and await his orders. If he decides to fight on, then he has a fleet to do it with. If he decides to follow the lead from London, well, then we follow that course. But, Valiant has not yet formally joined this squadron. On paper at least, you are still part of Force H based in Gibraltar and will remain so until you report to me. That is why I wished to see you privately before you do so. If you wish, you may not report to me, quoting the current situation and your assignment as a unit of Force H. In that case, since Gibraltar is not a Dominion, you may take Valiant home. Your other alternative is to report to me, join the India Squadron and remain with us. In that case, Captain, it might be many years before you see home again.”

Woollcombe didn’t hesitate. “Admiral, Sir. If it means fighting on, I would wish to report to you and to join your squadron as per my existing orders.”

Summerville relaxed slightly. “Good man. It will be most beneficial for us to have a battleship out here. I am having a Captain’s conference in 30 minutes, please join us. It will be a chance for you to meet the other Captains in the fleet.”

Woollcombe saluted and left. Summerville left the wardroom, quietly thanking the steward for the opportunity to have this quiet meeting. An “accidental” meeting in a wardroom where Summerville was a guest was one thing; summoning Woollcombe to his bridge would have been quite another.

Once out on a bridge wing, he looked over the expanse of the naval base. Trincomalee was the one reason why the Royal Navy was here in Ceylon. It was the finest naval base this side of Singapore and dominated the Indian Ocean. Over to port was the aircraft carrier Hermes. Not one of the largest or best-equipped carriers in the world, Summerville thought, but better than nothing. At least she means I’ll have some form of air cover if we have to fight.

Then there were two heavy cruisers, the modern 8-inch gunned Cornwall and Hawkins. His third heavy cruiser, Dorsetshire, was out on patrol. His light cruisers were all in, Capetown and Colombo were sixinch gunned veterans of the Great War. They still looked lean, purposeful ships. Their older sisters, Calypso and Caradoc were more archaic looking and their design showed their age badly. Still, they could take on any of the Japanese light cruisers in a ship-to-ship pounding match. His destroyers weren’t so fortunate. All twelve were old V/W class ships and compared badly with the Japanese destroyers they might have to engage.

Despite the age of the ships, this squadron gave India a navy, a tool it could use. That was more than it had at the moment. The Indian Navy fleet consisted of two sloops and four escort vessels that were barely more than coastal gunboats. If India was going to go it alone, she would need the British ships. The corollary to that was having the ships presented to them on a plate might well make the Indians more likely to stay in. A lot depended on what the Australians intended to do. As if the young officer had been reading his mind, a Sub-Lieutenant arrived on the bridge clasping a message.

“Sir, message from Admiral Crichton in Australia.”

Summerville took the flimsy and read it carefully. It was a simple note, one that stated the Pacific Squadron would be conducting itself in accordance with 03-9839 and would comply with the directions of the Australian Government. That didn’t mean too much by itself; a fast minelayer and four destroyers were hardly crucial elements in the balance of power. What it did show was that others in the Royal Navy were preparing to carry on the fight. Suddenly, Summerville felt a lot less lonely.

“You, what’s your name?”

The Sub-Lieutenant drew himself up. “James Ladone, Sir. Signals.”

Summerville smiled at him. “I bet everybody calls you Jim Lad. How long have you been on Valiant?

“Three months, Sir. First posting. Most people call me Jim Lad One. There’s another subbie in Signals, Sir; James Ladde. They call him Jim Lad Two.”

“Sensible. Tale a message for transmission to Admiral Crichton. Message reads. ‘Indian Ocean Squadron submitting ourselves to Indian Government Authority in accordance with 03-9839. Our actions will be determined by their decisions.’ Message ends. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir.” Ladone scuttled off with an enthusiasm that reminded Summerville of a young puppy. If Valiant was to be his flagship, he would need a signals staff and Ladone would suit him well as a junior member.

“Thank you all for coming here today. On behalf of the government of Thailand, I welcome you to our country and will endeavor not to waste your time. You are all familiar with the events in Great Britain, I assume?”

There was a quick exchange of glances which resulted in John Keswick of Jardine-Matheson taking the plunge. Jardine’s was The Princely Hong after all, and taking the lead was its privilege, however much Butterfield-Swire might dislike it. “We are…,” he stumbled not quite knowing what form of address to use.

“My apologies. I am the Ambassador Plenipotentiary of the Royal Family of Thailand.” She smiled demurely. “That means I am the direct representative of the Thai political system. All of it, not just the official government. I answer to the King himself, but beyond that to the people of this country. I am Thailand’s official trouble-shooter.”

“By which you mean you shoot those who cause trouble, Madam Ambassador?” Keswick smiled, but his eyes watched The Ambassador closely. What he saw in her eyes scared him. This woman would have no compunction about killing those who threatened her country.

“Exactly. And because of the events in London, there is much we need to speak about. Are you aware of the terms of the Armistice between Britain and Germany?”

Keswick shook his head, “No, madam. Except that the Armistice has been signed, we have no knowledge of its terms.” He was embarrassed by that. The Princely Hong had a widespread net of information sources, all of which had let the group down. The only redeeming feature was that the other Hongs had failed equally badly.

“I have the text of the Armistice agreement here. Please accept a copy for each of you with the compliments of my Government.” Suriyothai had an impassive expression but inwardly she smiled. The Piccadilly Circus in London had come through in fine style, despite most of its leaders being out of the country. She waved slightly and one of her staff rose to her feet and handed out the documents. There was a rustling of paper as the taipans quickly read through the papers.

“This document was dictated by the Germans.” Keswick was in no doubt of that. “It shows no understanding of the structure of the Empire or the political constraints it operates under. The suggestion that a document such as this, negotiated and agreed in London, will extend its terms as a matter of course to the Dominions is ludicrous.”

“That is our thought also. We understand that Australia and India are mightily offended by the situation and also by the fact that they still have not received official word of what has happened. We believe, but do not know, that South Africa and Canada are equally displeased.”

Keswick nodded, noting the careful distinction the Ambassador made between what she knew and what she believed or deduced. There was something else as well. His own position of absolute authority gave him the skill of recognizing that power in others; the Ambassador had it. He guessed it was probably derived power, drawing on the influence of the Royal family, but power was still power. He looked at the Ambassador and understood that this woman not only had power, she knew how to use it. Ruthlessly. The comment about shooting trouble-makers had not been a joke.

“May I draw your attention to the section that relates to the status of British colonies? It appears to our analysts that this gives carte blanche for any German ally to make claim to any British colony that said ally believes was unjustly taken from them. We believe that this inevitably means Japan will claim Hong Kong. Your activities in China are already being restricted by the war being fought there. Those restrictions will increase rapidly and will soon amount to total exclusion. When Hong Kong is taken over, the exclusion will extend to you there. That will be the end of the Hongs, Princely or otherwise.”

Suriyothai let her eyes roam around the group of men assembled in the room. Her expression was polite, helpful and concerned at the threat facing them. Her mind was filled with a fierce joy at the opportunity that was now unfolding before her. She noted the apprehensive tones of the quiet conversations that went on around her. Her point had struck home.

“So, what do you suggest, Madam Ambassador?” Keswick took the lead again.

“You must get ready to move your operations out of Hong Kong. You have a number of options, I believe. Chongqing and Kunming have been mentioned and I believe that offices in Bombay are also to be established at this time.”

Keswick was stunned. The plans to move Jardine Matheson out of Hong Kong in the event of a Japanese takeover were a closely-guarded secret. She’d just named the three leading contenders for a new headquarters.

“She’s got you there, John.” Richard Leeming of Butterfield-Swire had a jeering tone in his voice at the obvious breech of the Princely Hong’s security.

“Do not be severe on Mister Keswick. Your own company has similar plans.” Suriyothai reproved the Butterfield-Swire taipan and was secretly delighted to see him flush. “So do the rest of you. I think though, that your choice of alternatives leaves much to be desired. Chongqing and Kunming will both fall to the Japanese in due course and you will face the same problem again. Bombay is more secure and has excellent telegraph communications with the rest of the world, but moving there will present you with all the problems of dealing with an entirely new business and cultural environment. Recruiting staff will also be a problem for you.”

Keswick nodded. All those factors had already been considered by his staff. “You have another suggestion, Madam Ambassador?”

“I have. Move here. Bangkok is a major city. We have telegraph services already and have allocated funds for a major upgrade of our system. If you elect to move here, we would invite you to sit down with the Telegraph and Telephone Authority and specify exactly what it is that you need in the way of communications. We will then build it for you. We have educated people here, graduates of British and American universities. We are businessfriendly and, to put it bluntly, we will keep out of your way. We are close to being in the geographical center of this region, within relatively easy reach of east, west, north and south. Our business community is well-established, has excellent contacts across the world. It is also largely Chinese and provides a cultural environment with which you are already comfortable and into which your existing Chinese staff will fit well. This is a medium-large country with rich resources in food, gold, precious jewels, rubber and opium. The latter in particular will be needed across the world as the war continues. Wounded soldiers need morphine more than anything else and there will be many millions of those by the time this war ends. Finally, you will have the best army in South East Asia standing between you and any threat. Six divisions in regular service, four more as reserves. All German-trained and Germanequipped. Gentlemen, the Germans taught us how to use our tanks and artillery well.”

“That claim to military prowess sounds impressive but, with respect, it is based on your word alone. Do you have experience to support it?”

Leeming’s voice stopped just short of being openly dismissive. “It is not as if your country has an impressive military reputation to date.”

Suriyothai looked at him, a sincerely helpful smile on her face.

Behind that smile, she imagined herself flaying him alive before disembowelling him with a hooked knife. Then she dismissed that train of thought; brutality would not solve this problem. “As it happens, I hold the military rank of Colonel and have commanded an infantry regiment. I agree that our military history is not taught in Western staff colleges. However, we do have a six hundred year tradition of fighting every invader of our country to a standstill. We are still here and, I would remind you, alone in this region we have never been colonized. Before the colonial era, we took on the might of Han China and defeated them. I would refer you to the battle at Bang Rachan. There, a small group of villagers held off an entire army for eighteen months. The women fought alongside their men and died alongside them. That is where the tradition of Thai women wearing their hair cut short comes from. But, your point is well taken. However, given the scope of international events, I think you can be assured that a demonstration of our ability will be forthcoming.”

“And you want our agreement to move now, I suppose.” Keswick sounded amused but actually his mind was running over the prospect that had been outlined. It was unexpected and completely outside any of the analyses his staff had made. Yet, it had a hypnotic fascination.

“Of course not. Pressuring you to make a decision would be foolish. We cannot persuade you to make a decision, either here and now or at any time. You must make that decision on your own and for your own reasons. And in your own time. We stand ready to provide any information you need and to invest in the facilities you will require. But, we cannot interfere with the decisions that you might make. To do so would undermine the relationship which we propose to you. What we do suggest is that each of you open an office here and transfer the critical records and other things you need to continue your business to that office. If you choose to move to Bangkok, then your new headquarters will stand ready. If you do not, a regional office with a full reserve copy of your records will be a valuable property in its own right. Either way, a fall-back plan is always a wise precaution.”

Keswick nodded again. “That is certainly possible, but any final decision on the location of our headquarters would have to be attendant upon a demonstration of your country’s ability to secure and protect our investment here. Other than that, I have two questions, Madam Ambassador. How soon can Jardine Matheson set up this regional office here, and will you be involved in running this move?”

“Yes, I will be personally responsible for seeing that any move you choose to make. There will be no problem in you transferring key members of your staff here. We will welcome them and make them part of our community. As to how soon you can make your move, some property developers here have started to build an office block that seems entirely suited to your needs. It is called Sukothai House and has its own generators and air conditioning. I have the details of it here.” She handed over a leaflet that showed a typical European-style office building; one she had designed and built by European architects and paid for it out of her personal resources.

Keswick glanced at the sheet and then read it more carefully. That The Ambassador had it to hand was the factor that decided him. “Madam Ambassador, please advise the developers that this building is to be known as Jardine Matheson House and that we will take it in its entirety. Do you allow us to purchase buildings or should we lease?”

“You may purchase the building. The land it is on must be leased but we will offer lease terms that amount to your ownership. I assume Jardine Matheson (Thailand) is now an operable concern?”

“At the very least.” Keswick covertly cast his eyes around the room.

Now that the Princely Hong had jumped into the offer being made, the others would follow. That meant Jardine Matheson was in the lead and would be well-established by the time the others got here. Also, he guessed that his lead would place the Ambassador in his debt and he had a feeling she always honored her debts.

Once her guests had departed for the Oriental Hotel, Suriyothai relaxed and stared out of the window. In her mind, the strange display formed again, a waterfall of lights and threads that represented the various options for the future. Now the tenuous thread that she had identified earlier was glowing much more strongly than before. What had been a pious hope a couple of days before was now a solid possibility.

“I have brought tea, your Highness.” Lani bowed deeply as she poured, taking great care that her head did not rise above that of Suriyothai.

“The meeting went well?”

“Very well. We have made many promises and now we must keep them. Also, we made a few boasts that are no more than that. Boasts remain just words until there are actions to back them up. Now, we must look for the excuse to take such actions. We said we had the finest army in South East Asia. We shall prove it by destroying French power in IndoChina. Once our military ability is demonstrated, the Hongs will come here and they will bring economic strength with them.”

“Excuse me, could you tell me how to find the library?”

The soft voice broke through David Newton’s daydream and focused his attention on the speaker. A young woman with jet-black hair, strongly arched eyebrows and high cheekbones. There weren’t that many women in the University and very few that attractive. “Umm, there’s several, depending on which school you’re in. What are you studying?”

“Commercial art. I’m just starting. And you?”

“Chemical engineering. Second year. My name’s David Newton. The library belonging to the Fine Art School is along this way. I’m heading that way myself since the Engineering School is on the next floor. I’ll show you where it is.”

“I’m Rachael Cohen. Pleased to meet you David. To be honest, I was afraid when I got here. Everybody seemed very remote and distant. Nobody seems to want to talk.”

“I think everybody is a bit scared right now, to be honest. With the Armistice coming the way it did and all. We’d all assumed our call-up papers were on the way and we’d be Army conscripts by the end of the year. Now, the war is over we don’t know what is happening.”

“The war isn’t over, David. It’s just started. It has a long, long time to run yet. And then there’s the greater war as well.” Rachael looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, measuring him to see how he reacted to the comment.

“I agree, That Man has made a horrible mistake and we’ll all pay dearly for it.” Newton was suddenly aware of how quickly the phrase “That Man” with reference to Lord Halifax had slipped into the language. He wasn’t even sure how it had happened. “What do you mean by ‘the greater war’?”

“Why, the war between capitalists and proletariat of course. Between the exploiters and the exploited. The class struggle will go on no matter what That Man says.”

The venom behind her use of ‘That Man’ was startling. “Well, I see things a bit differently, Rachael. I think that the Nazis will kill us all, capitalist and worker alike, if we don’t finish them off first. We’ve all got to stick together or we’ll all be wiped out. Look, this is the Fine Arts library. Perhaps we can talk a bit more about this later. Over tea in the canteen, perhaps? My classes finish at five.”

Rachael hesitated. “I have a bit of a problem with the food offered at the canteen. It’s not kosher, you see. But I suppose tea will be all right. See you there at six?”

Sir Humphrey Appleday drained his glass, but it was no good. He had come over from London as part of a delegation with the British Purchasing Commission and had consulted with Phillip Stuyvesant on the matter of small craft for the Royal Navy. This evening was his first opportunity since the catastrophic news from London to talk over more pressing matters. There was the mystery of Winston Churchill, for example. The man appeared to have dropped off the face of the earth; no mean achievement for such a rabid publicity-hound. Unfortunately, Appleday had run into Michael Collins first and the two had exchanged ill-tempered words after a little finely-judged provocation from Nell.

Igrat had intercepted him with a full glass and her most seductive smile. She might have a morally flexible outlook on life, even by the standards of New York, but she was an excellent hostess. Appleday sighed gently, his anger leaving him. It was simply impossible for a man to remain angry when Igrat was plying him with drink; although in most cases, her victim would have been wiser to remain angry, alert and sober. They had usually paid for their mistake with their wallets and, on one recent occasion, all their clothes. In that case, her victim had been an aspiring New York politician with strongly pro-Nazi views. One call to a newspaper had followed another to his wife and the scandal had ruined him. Appleday returned her smile with a rueful grin, “I really walked into that little dispute, didn’t I?”

“Like a newling kitten.” Igrat’s humor took any sting out of her words. “Don’t blame Nell; we all react to danger in different ways. Phillip gets all careful and calculating, Mike gets rash, I get lecherous and Nell gets playful. And what she’s doing tomorrow and thereafter isn’t safe. The Pan Am clipper to Shannon will be secure enough, but after that? But, family calls and she’s off to do her duty by them. She’ll have Achillea and Gusoyn with her, so that’s going to help.”

Igrat leaned forward and Appleday found himself looking down the front of her dress. “Now, if you want to get back at Mike, take me away from the party. That’ll set him off nicely.”

Appleday was appalled. “And what will he do to you?”

“He’s drunk, so he’ll take a swing at me. He’ll miss, of course. I’m really good at getting out of the way. Hearing about it will make Nell feel bad as well, so you’ll get a double-barrelled revenge. Want to try it?” Igrat wriggled her shoulders slightly.

“And put you at risk of taking a blow, for the sake of cheap revenge? I’d rather swallow the insult.”

Igrat’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why, Humpty, you say the nicest things. You are a gentleman aren’t you? I’m touched, I really am. But really, don’t worry about Mike. He knows very well that if ever one of those swings connects, I’ll be gone and never coming back.”

Appleday looked at her, slightly suspicious that she might be poking fun at him, but her sincerity was obvious. In fact, Igrat was always slightly surprised when she found out that people cared about her. The mental scars from neglect, exploitation and abuse in her early childhood were still there, underneath the stylish, hard exterior. He decided it was time to change the subject. “So how does everybody else react to danger?”

“Oh, Lillith takes off in the opposite direction. Naamah fades into the background and will probable poison the person responsible. Achillea goes towards it carrying every weapon she can find. Achillea’s going to England with Nell, you know. Help look after her.”

“There shouldn’t be any risk.” Appleday thought carefully. “If anything, this is probably the best possible time to go to England. It might be the last chance anybody gets for a long time.”

“It’s going to be that bad over there?” Igrat was genuinely surprised by the comment. “I know your team has elected to stay over here rather than go back to England, but I thought Lord Halifax was going to try and keep Britain out of Germany’s reach?”

Appleday sighed, then reminded himself that anything he said to Igrat would be repeated back to Stuyvesant in exactly the same pitch, tone and emphasis that he had used. “Halifax has bought some time, that’s all. Britain must be either within the German political gestalt or an enemy of it. Its economy, war industries and geographic position all dictate that. The Germans know that invasion is impossible. After all, the German is not an aquatic beast and crossing the Channel is a far more intractable problem than any mere river. They’ve foregone the direct, brutal and rapid approach in favor of a slower absorption, but the policy end is the same. German control over Great Britain. They’ll make small demands, each quite reasonable on its own and Halifax will accept them rather than fight. Then, one day, he’ll wake up and find the whole country has slipped through his fingers. One may always keep the peace if one is prepared to pay the asking price, but I have to ask whether Halifax has even bothered to ask for the statement of account.”

Appleday paused and tried to fight back the tears that were forming in his eyes. He could see what was going to happen so clearly; the fact that Halifax and his accomplices couldn’t filled him with despair. “We have to set up a government in exile, but to do that we need a leader, somebody people can identify with. A group of civil servants won’t be good enough. We need Winnie out and over here, or somebody very like him, and there isn’t anybody quite like Winnie. But, returning to Nell’s visit, everything should be all right now. I think we can be sure there will be a few Gestapo officers in Britain already ‘to find escaped criminals’ or some such excuse, but as for the rest, that will take time. A thousand years of tradition and the slow, painful growth of liberty thrown out in a day. Yes, Igrat, if Nell or anybody else goes to England, now will be the time. Because a long, difficult night is coming and I do not know if we will see the end of it. Or what bringing in a new dawn will cost.”

“Well, Martyn, we’ve had an interesting communication from Bangkok.”

Sir Martyn Sharpe raised his eyebrows in surprise. “From Bangkok? What do they want?”

Sir Eric Haohoa took a delicate sip from his glass of sherry. “As a matter of fact, they asked for nothing. They just supplied us with a complete copy of the Armistice agreement signed between London and Germany on the 19^th. They said we ought to have a copy for our records.”

“You mean, they have a complete copy of the agreement and we do not!” Sir Martyn was outraged, and his anger contrasted sharply with the quiet calm displayed by the Assistant Deputy Cabinet Secretary. “That is too bad of London, it is just too bad. They have told us nothing?”

“Still no word, Martyn. London is as quiet as the grave. Our most urgent telegrams have met with no response. As far as they are concerned, the Dominions simply do not exist.”

“What else did the Siamese say?”

Sir Eric coughed gently. “They are Thais now, Martyn. The message came from ‘The Ambassador Plenipotentiary for the King’. Who this person is, we have no real idea. We have asked our local sources out there and they do not know, although some say it has been rumored for many years that the Royal Family has an emissary who expresses their wishes and desires to the government in an unofficial manner. A fixer and trouble-shooter, if you will forgive the Americanisms. If this person is the Ambassador from whom their message to us is sourced, then his contact with us must be approved at the highest levels in the government.”

“‘We ought to have a copy for our files.’ Whoever he is, this Ambassador has a nice sense of humor.” Sir Martyn chuckled at the offhand remark.

“Indeed so. He also says that, once the situation stabilizes, there ought to be a meeting between our two countries to discuss security and trade arrangements in the region.”

Sir Martyn looked reflective at that additional part of the message.

“They’re assuming there will be a break between ourselves and London over this Armistice. Otherwise they would be seeking a meeting with London directly.”

“That’s the Cabinet Office interpretation, certainly. Sir Richard was all set to send them a blistering reply to the effect that they should contact London, but he was reminded that doing so would be a Foreign Department matter and that a response should be approved either by the head of the Foreign Department or by Cabinet. He did not take that well. There is something else as well that may relate to this.”

Sir Eric hesitated. “You know the routing of submarine cable communications in this part of the world? The main line comes from the Middle East and comes ashore at Bombay. From there, the main trunk route runs to Singapore and then splits, one part going south to Australia and the other heading east to Manila, Hong Kong and Japan. Of those three, the main lines are to Hong Kong of course. The line to Manila then goes across the Pacific to the west coast of the United States.”

Sir Martyn nodded. “And?”

“Our contacts within American Telephone & Telegraph Company say that the Thai Government has approached them for a quotation on expanding the capacity of their telegraph link to that system. At the moment, it’s barely adequate for local traffic only. The expansion requested would make their link equivalent in capacity to the main trunk cable. When they were told of the cost of that operation and the time schedule, their response was that the cable was needed urgently and they would pay a substantial premium if the work was started immediately. They would pay an even larger premium if the work was completed within a year. That’s a deal AT&T can hardly refuse, and it will give the Thais as good communications with Australia and ourselves as any in the world.”

“What the devil are they playing at? That’s a huge investment for a country of their financial standing. How are they paying?”

“Our sources say, they offer payment in gold.” Sir Eric spoke that softly. “Apparently, the management of American Telephone & Telegraph Company have gold fever and see bars of gold bullion decorating the accounts at the next stockholder’s meeting. They’re searching for a cable-laying ship while we speak. That doesn’t answer why, of course.”

Sir Martyn thought the whole matter over. “It could be that they see the Armistice as being the fuse that sets this whole region ablaze. They could be right there, you know. The Dutch East Indies are restive; with the Netherlands occupied, authority there is unclear. The French will not last much longer. With Britain out, they’ll fold in a day or two at most. That means IndoChina is also on its own resources. Then we have our own problems here and there’s the Japanese in China. This whole area could come apart at the seams and they may well want to be in a position to know what is going on. Good, secure communications would be worth their weight in gold. And that is just what they are paying.”

Sir Martyn was interrupted by his intercom bleeping. “There’s a diplomatic messenger for Sir Eric waiting. He says its very urgent.”

“Send him in.” The two men exchanged ‘uh-oh’ glances.

Sri Eric signed for the package and opened it. Then he went white with shock. “Martyn, we have just received our word from London. It states that we are to comply with the terms of the Armistice without question and that the terms of the agreement as negotiated in London are binding upon us. We are reminded that the system of Imperial Preference upon which our economy depends is contingent upon us maintaining the agreements signed by the British Government on our behalf. Martyn, this is as close to an ‘or else’ ultimatum as I have ever seen from London.”

“Do as you are told like good little boys or mummy will spank.” Sir Martyn spoke bitterly. “Who do they think we are?”