Colin Cotterill - Disco for the Departed

“That’s right,” said Siri.

“Come with me quick.” He didn’t wait for a response, but turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs four at a time. From his many years of experience, Siri knew that ten seconds saved by sprinting up a flight of stairs rather than walking rarely made a difference, apart from possibly killing the physician as well as the patient. So he took the stairs one at a time and was met by the flustered guard on his way back down.

“Hurry up,” the guard said. “It’s a life-and-death matter.” Despite the urgency, he’d spared the time to relock the upstairs door before going for Siri. His hands shook now as he attempted to insert the key into the padlock. Siri reached the top landing just as the man burst through the first door and ran along the corridor to a second. That, too, was locked. Siri wondered what ferocious beast required such security measures. As he walked past the first room, he looked in through the open door. Three expensive-looking leather suitcases sat on one of the beds. On the floor was a large tray of seedlings and small pots containing cuttings.

“In here,” shouted the guard. “He’s not dead yet.”

On the only bed in the next room, convulsed in pain, frothing at the mouth, was a middle-aged man with greased hair wearing simple but expensive pajamas. On the floor beside the bed, lying on its side, was a brown glass bottle. The label was in Russian but the universal skull and cross-bones left no doubt as to its contents. Siri prized open the man’s eyes and looked into his pupils. He then forced open the man’s mouth to see his tongue and sniffed at his breath.

“They was cleaning the rooms after them others left. Stupid bitch must have left the cleanser in the sink. Don’t know how he got hold of it. Must’ve been on his way back from the toilet and grabbed it without me seeing. Stupid bastard. It’ll be me that gets shot if anything happens.” The guard was ranting, pacing up and down the room. “Hospital! Can we get him to the hospital? Can you fix him up? Doc? Can you, Doc?”

“Listen, comrade,” Siri said, looking up at the frantic guard. “I can’t do anything with you stomping around like a rampant capitalist. I want you to go down to the kitchen and get the ladies to boil two liters of water. Stir in a handful of salt and about thirty cc’s of cooking oil. Don’t come back till it’s all ready.”

“Right.” The guard abandoned his charge and sped to the kitchen. The poisoned man still squirmed in agony on the bed.

“It’s okay,” Siri said. “He’s gone. You can stop now.”

The man flinched for a second but then began to growl deep in his throat. “Hospital.”

“You and I both know that isn’t going to happen, don’t we now?”

“Dying.”

“Come on. You’re no more dying than I am. In fact, I probably look in worse condition than you do. Exactly what did you think this little show would achieve?”

The man spat the remainder of the foam from his mouth and looked up angrily at Siri. “Who in blazes are you?”

“Dr. Siri Paiboun.”

“Egad. What are the odds of there being a bloody doctor in a place like this?” He sat up and shook his head.

“It was a good show. I doubt anyone else would have dared get close enough to smell the toothpaste. I imagine the staff would have thrown you in a truck and carted you off to the medical center in Xam Neua. But I still don’t see what good that would have done you.”

“No? Well, it’s simple. There wouldn’t have been security in a hospital. I could have sneaked out.”

“And gone where?”

“I don’t know, man. Stolen a car? Headed south?”

“You obviously don’t realize where you are. There’s one road in the direction of Vientiane, and there are some hundred PL and Vietnamese encampments you’d have to pass through on the way. Are you really that desperate to get killed?”

“Better to die fast from a bullet than after the slow torture your people have planned for me.”

“How do you know what we’ve planned?”

“I’m not stupid. I know how you do it. Hard labor, primitive conditions, no access to medicines.”

“I survived for thirty years in those conditions. Why couldn’t you?”

“You obviously don’t know who I am.”

“Oh, I know very well. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

The man shook his head and looked out the window. “I’ve never had to fend for myself. Just the merest sniffle and I was pumped full of drugs. I have no natural immunity, no resistance, no stamina.”

“You’d be surprised how quickly your body adapts.”

“No. It will kill me. I’m certain. Listen. The guard will be back as soon as he completes the ridiculous mission you sent him on. How about you and I come to some… arrangement?”

“Surely you don’t mean financial?”

“I have access to more money than you could ever imagine. If you could get me to Thailand, I c-”

“What would I do with money?”

“Do? What would anyone do? Live a comfortable life. Be free.”

Siri laughed. “If you don’t mind my saying so, in your present predicament you’re hardly a glowing advertisement for the combination of wealth and freedom. But, good try, boy. You know, you’re quite unlike your father.”

“How would you know that?”

“We met. We spent a night together drinking rice whisky and sharing philosophy. I haven’t spent a great deal of my life in the company of royalty, unless you count playing cards, but I was impressed. He was more resigned to fate than you seem to be.”

“He’s a defeatist.”

“He’s a realist. He was here, wasn’t he? And the queen?”

“They took them away last night. Did you see the room they forced them to stay in? Disgraceful. Goodness knows what awaits them out there in the jungle.”

“You’re afraid.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Fear helps us survive. I’ve spent a larger portion of my life being afraid than I have being in control. But here I am. Forget this escape idea, son. It won’t help you or your family. Play the game. Find a tall tree somewhere, a tree that’s survived all the coups and massacres of history. Go to that tree and dig a hole near its roots and bury your pride there. Invest all your royal heritage into the majesty of that great tree, stash it there, and become the simple, humble person they’ll ask you to be. Suffer the indignities they inflict on you and impress them with your will. Win them over with your humility. I know that’s what the king and queen will attempt to do.”

“I… I can’t.”

“You can. And it will have a deeper and longer-lasting impact than any bravado, any heroics, any royal histrionics you have in mind. Show them you’re a person of character. They won’t know how to respond to that. There’s nothing more disheartening to a bully than a man who doesn’t get scared.”

Siri picked up the bottle from the floor. The crown prince looked forlornly ahead of him. “Why did they separate us?”

“To break your will. You didn’t actually drink any of this, did you?”

“It was empty.”

Siri laughed. “You see? You’re a very resourceful lad. You can survive a hundred reeducation camps.”

The guard came running into the room. He held the handles of the steaming pot with rags wrapped around his fingers. The entire kitchen staff was behind him.

“It’s done,” the guard said. “What should I do with it?”

“Throw it down the toilet,” Siri told him. “Better still, boil some decent vegetables for dinner.”

“What? But you said…”

“I seem to have performed a medical miracle without it and brought the prince back to life. There won’t be any more problems. We won’t have to boil him in oil after all.”