“What was this about, sir?” asked Mazer. “Why should the SAS be involved in a sale to the Chinese? If Juke wanted to show off the HERC why not do it at their own facilities? Our HERC isn’t the only one in existence. Why bring the Chinese here?”
“Several reasons. One, Juke pilots aren’t nearly as good as you. I’m not buttering you up, that’s simply a fact. Juke knew they’d get a much more dramatic presentation here. Second, the Chinese wanted to see soldiers in action. That’s who will be flying theirs, and they happen to have a lot of respect for the SAS. That is why, in fact, they wanted all of you sleep deprived. They figure a sleep-deprived SAS officer is equal to a well-rested Chinese one.”
Fatani grunted. “Hardly.”
“You’re an exception to any such comparison, Fatani,” said Colonel Napatu. “You’re equal to four Chinese officers. And I don’t mean simply in terms of mass.”
“I can see why the Chinese might like this arrangement,” said Mazer, “but why would the defense department agree to it? Why do a favor for the Chinese? I thought we were hoping to keep this tech proprietary.”
“I asked those same questions. First off, we couldn’t keep the HERC for ourselves even if we wanted to. Juke will sell the tech to whoever will pay for it. The U.S. military is big enough to make stipulations like that to their contractors, but not us. We’re small potatoes. We’ll buy a few dozen HERCs at the most, which is barely enough to break a sweat on the Juke assembly line. China is a big buyer. Juke would hang us out to dry and leave us with nothing if it meant snagging a deal with the Chinese. My point? We never had a chance of keeping this proprietary. As to why we agreed to do the show, it turns out the SAS is getting a few HERCs for free for our troubles.”
Fatani whistled. “For free? Considering the price tag of a HERC is more than the GDP of most third-world countries, I’d say we got a good deal. Not bad for an hour’s worth of work.”
Napatu leaned forward and frowned. “Well, that’s the sour part of this conversation. The Chinese didn’t ask for just a single hour of work.”
“That look on your face makes me think I’m not going to like the next thing out of your mouth,” said Reinhardt.
Mazer thought the same, but he kept quiet.
“The primary reason why we gave a show to the Chinese,” said Napatu, “was because they were testing you as much as the HERC.”
“Told you,” said Fatani.
“Testing us for what?” said Patu.
Mazer answered. “The Chinese not only want to purchase a fleet of HERCs, they also want an experienced HERC team to train their pilots how to fly it.”
“Say it ain’t so,” said Reinhardt. “We have to babysit a bunch of Chinese pilots?”
“How many pilots are they sending us?” asked Fatani.
“None,” said Colonel Napatu. “The Chinese aren’t coming here. You’re going to them. Guangdong province. Southeast China. It’ll be a six-month op.”
Nobody spoke. It wasn’t uncommon for an SAS team to be given orders to conduct a joint cooperative engagement training—or JCET—but that didn’t mean everyone was thrilled by the idea.
Sensing disappointment in the others, Mazer said, “It’s China, Reinhardt. They have hair dryers and silk sheets. I think you’ll survive.”
Napatu took a data cube from his desk and offered it to Mazer. “Captain Rackham, you’ll continue as team leader. Your mission objectives are there on the cube. You’ll brief the others on the plane. You fly out at 0900.”
Mazer took the cube, surprised. “Captain, sir?”
“You’ve just been promoted. I’m not having some Chinese officer thinking he outranks everyone on your team.”
*
It was six o’clock in the morning when Mazer left Colonel Napatu’s office and made his way across base toward the motor pool. Three hours. Napatu had given them three hours to arrange their affairs before getting on a plane for an overseas six-month assignment.
This is why it would never work with Kim, he told himself. This is why it was ridiculous to even consider marriage. No relationship can operate this way.
They had never discussed marriage, but Mazer knew Kim was thinking about it as much as he was. It was evident in the little things she did: the way she smiled at any baby they passed in the market, or how she casually mentioned her goals for the future, like how she wanted a bay window in her home when she settled down, or how she would grow her own vegetables when she settled down. That was her phrase: “When I settle down.” It was never “When we settle down,” but the subtext was there nonetheless. The implication was obvious. She was putting her toe in the marriage waters and seeing what ripples it produced.
Mazer always responded as if he sensed no subtext at all. They were making conversation, nothing more. Why yes, a bay window would be lovely. But no, gardens were a pain; there were weeds to be pulled and bugs to be sprayed and dirt to be tilled. That was time, and time was money. I’ll buy my vegetables, thank you very much.