The kid’s English was good. A slight accent, but that was to be expected. Well educated obviously, and the perfect cut of his hair and the immaculate state of his uniform suggested a life of discipline. Wit figured he was probably the son of some well-to-do high-ranking officer or perhaps the nephew of some party official. A kid with connections. Someone had put in a good word and gotten him a decent command position right out of school. Not that Khunjerab Pass was any Shangri-La. It wasn’t. It was barren and cold and isolated and completely uninteresting. There were no forms of entertainment whatsoever, nothing to keep a soldier occupied after hours. There was the gate, there were the trucks that passed through the gate, and there were the mountains. The only break in the monotony was the occasional mountain goat sighting.
But it was a command position. It might be a crappy one, but big careers had to start somewhere.
“Why are you traveling into China?” the lieutenant asked.
“We want to study the Formics,” said Wit. Which was true.
The whole world was using that term now. Formics. It was all over the news.
“Your name does not show up on our databases,” said the lieutenant. “There’s no file for you at all in America. No credit reports. No address. You’re an anomaly.”
Wit had no address because he was never in the U.S. If he had leave time, which was almost never, he passed it elsewhere. Or, in the rare occasion in which he did visit the States, he went to his parents’ house in upstate New York. He didn’t own property. Why would he?
The rest of his personal data had been erased when he had joined MOPs.
Wit sighed inside. He had wanted to do this the polite way, but the lieutenant wasn’t going to let them in. Wit could see that now. It was all over the kid’s face; he was picturing himself arresting forty highly skilled soldiers. He was seeing a commendation in his future. Maybe even a promotion.
Wit said, “I’m sure the United States would be thrilled to know you’re invading the privacy of its citizens.”
The lieutenant looked up from the passport, his lips pressed tight together. “The information is public record, Mr. O’Toole. Anyone with access to the nets can acquire it. You are requesting permission to enter my country. I have every right to know whatever I want to know about you. Your privacy laws don’t apply here.” He closed the passport, placed it on his desk, and steepled his fingers. “Why do you want to study the Formics?”
“Because we want to stop them,” said Wit. “Which will probably involve killing them or driving them back into space. But between you and me, I’d rather kill them. It’s easier that way. You don’t have to worry about them coming back with their friends.”
The lieutenant blinked, surprised by Wit’s candor.
“My companions and I are soldiers,” said Wit. “As you likely have already deduced. We’re MOPs. Mobile Operations Police. We’re here, dressed as civilians and passing through your gate as a courtesy to you. We don’t have to come through this way. There are hundreds of ways to get into China. I would prefer to do it legally, as I’m attempting to do now. But should you deny us entrance, we’ll get in the other way. Easy.”
The lieutenant smiled, as if he found Wit’s confidence amusing. “You think you can sneak by me and my men, Mr. O’Toole?”
“In my sleep,” said Wit. “And if you deny us entrance here and force us to enter the country illegally, it will reflect very poorly on you, Lieutenant. You can be sure of that. Because once we’re in the country we’ll tell the Chinese military how we crossed right here, right under your noses. We’ll tell them how lax your security is. We’ll tell them how a whole fleet of foreign vehicles honking their horns and shooting off fireworks could pass through the gaping holes in the border here without any detection whatsoever. We’ll tell them it was easy. We’ll tell them all sorts of things. We’ll be very thorough and very convincing. It will paint you, I’m afraid, in a rather negative light.”
The lieutenant looked angry, but Wit was far from finished.
“And you and I both know that the blame won’t stop there,” said Wit. “Whoever helped you get this position will be culpable, too. He’ll be tainted for putting an incompetent in charge here. He’ll take the fall. It will annihilate any chance either of you have of ever getting promoted again. If you can’t maintain a border crossing in the middle of nowhere, they’ll say, then you can’t do much of anything.
“However, if you do let us cross, you now have a story to tell. They passed as civilians, you’ll say. They weren’t carrying weapons. Their passports checked out. I had no reason to deny them access. In fact, I was doing my duty correctly by letting them in. And if the Chinese military asks me and my men why we would pretend to be civilians and cross over this way, we’ll tell them that we had no other choice. We’ll tell them the borders are so tight up there under that lieutenant that we had no choice but to abandon our weapons and go right through the gate. We’ll tell them how the level of security here made us uneasy, how a mountain crossing was out of the question because the men at the border are too well trained and too savvy and too watchful of the passes. They’d catch us for sure. We’ll tell them all sorts of things, Lieutenant. And it will reflect very well on you. They might even give you a shiny medal.”
The lieutenant was quiet a moment. “I could arrest you right now,” he said finally. “That would get me a medal, too.”