At late-afternoon, the Dark Pearl club was hardly a busy place. With the lights in fact on, and the stage cleared it was hardly the night club it would be later in the night. Many of the expensive drinks on offer found themselves hidden behind curtains. The air was heavy with the smell of lunch than the cheap alcohol of late night. At mid-day, the function of the club was much more like that of a noodle house. Tucked down an alley down side streets branching off Pushan Road, across the Pengyu Pu it was more a gathering spot for those in the know. By day the clientele were local workers on the trolleys, or the textile workers finding time to step out of their apartments for cheap noodles and a break from the looms. Cigarette smoke interwove itself with the smell of spice and broth, the slap of lips with light conversation. The brushing of sandals and tennis shoes on the concrete floor marking the coming and going of the mid-day patrons.

Standing at the bar, Hou Tsun ate his late lunch. He leaned arm against the gummy wood, leveraging long wet white noodles into his mouth with one hand, and holding up a newspaper with another. With half-hearted interest he searched the pages, reading the headlines and half the content of the articles. He read about fighting in India, sudden opportunistic pushes by Japan in Indonesia to take advantage of British struggles in India. But in the end none of it coming to any decisive shift. It was all delegated to the middle of the papers.

Bored, he turned the pages and began to search with much more interest the classifieds. He read with much heavier interest the calls for warehousing workers for the ports and the railroads, comparing the rates of pay and hours posted: forty hours a week, part time; sixty hours a week full time and so on. Shop keepers in Changning and Putuo looking for someone to work ten hours a week to perform regular paper work. Calls for house keepers for across the Bund. A new law office had opened and was searching for junior associates. A doctor's office in search of nurses. The factories on Chongming were always looking, posting union affiliated positions. He considered his possibilities, weighing them out, and what he might be able to get away with.

“Enjoying yourself?” a voice asked. Tsun looked away from his paper to see a large burly figure walk over. He recognized the balding bouncer of the club, a thick dark skinned migrant from Hainan. “I'm doing find, Chiaw De.” Tsun said, “what about you?”

“Sore, from last night. There was quiet the fight. Why weren't you there?”

“I was tired.” Tsun turned away for a moment to slurp up some noodles, “Besides, I'm between work.” he added nonchalantly.

“Oh, did you turn away from the warehouse?”

“More like they turned away from me.” he said, laughing, “I guess they finally realized who I'm related to.”

“That's a shame.” De laughed, lightly punching his shoulder, “There's plenty of jobs open right now anyways. At least from what I heard.”

“Mhmm...” Tsun responded, his interest detached as he searched the job offerings more intensely. “That's what they say.” he added, although he did not believe he could believe it. There were posts everywhere but none of them all that good. Compared to his last job, he would have to take a knock of several thousand yuan off his pay, and realized he'd have to go through another chain of gang bosses to get hired, it was always the unspoken factor. There were enough prospects, but they were demoralizing in their breadth and number. He felt his gut sink, and thought about leaving the city. Perhaps he would go home to Tianjin, or head overseas; there was always opportunity in the tongs of Malaysia.

“If it helps, I know guys in the unions. I can put a good word in.” Chiaw De consoled.

“Thanks.” said Tsun.

“I'm sure perhaps they would be excited to have a more direct line to the Party President.” he laughed.

“No, I don't want to be held up to him. I'm trying it on my own.” Tsun knew it would be easy to get anywhere by dropping his dad's name in the right place. But it was just easier to never name him. He'd give his name as Tsun David before Hou Tsun. It felt dirty, otherwise.

“It's hard work to find hard work, I get it. You probably don't want to really fight half the guys you got to.”

“How could you tell?”

“Your face is all tense, twisted. I know none of them are really good. For a peasant out of the country: sure. But I know you: you've been here too long. None of them are the golden goose.”

“You got that right,” Tsun laughed, “Perhaps I should have just stayed in the north.”

“There's going to be shows here this weekend though, I'd expect you to be on the lists. But you're not: I take it you don't need the money right now?”

“No, my dad's in town this weekend and I'm going to see him.”

“Oh yes, I know now.”

“Next weekend, perhaps. I'm working new material.”

“Oh good.” De smiled, but he was summoned by someone down the bar and he left Tsun to stew for a bit. He finished the classifieds and gave a dissatisfied snort, thinking he would go back over them later and stuck it in the back of his jeans. He turned to his noodles again, and began to think about the limbo he was in. He had enough money saved up for a month or two – so De was right: he didn't need money explicitly, there was no emergency, and if it came to it he could write home and borrow some for a third. But it still made him feel cut off and precarious. The thought made him feel uneasy.

But as quick as De had left to work some other customer, and no sooner he had turned back to his noodles a presence move up alongside, touching Tsun on his shoulder. He felt suddenly cold and spooked, turning on his heels to see who it was. Next to him at the counter came a sinewy man, his short cut hair laid low across his head with grease giving him a sharkish face. He smiled wide at Tsun behind large wide framed glasses. “Good afternoon, David Tsun I'm to presume?” he asked in a friendly cool voice.

“Yes.” he answered, looking the man up and down. Seeing his nice shoes on his feet, the well pressed cropped pants and the way he tucked in his crisp shirt. He stood with the poise of a well kept professional, and his appearance in a place like this struck Tsun's curiosity. A man such as this should be at the Bund, not the hide away of neighborhood spinners, weavers, and trolley workers. In his nature, he could only inspire suspicion here.

“Nice to meet you,” the well-dressed man said, holding out his hand to take a hand shake. Hou Tsun paused in accepting the offer, nervously raising his own in response. Though his new bar partner was clearly Chinese, he behaved in a very American fashion. He had an unreserved loudness associated with American tourists. The sort who might linger in a club when they learn a man named “David” was on the roster and wanted to see what the occasion was. “I couldn't help over hear your conversation earlier.” he said with unbroken stride, “I'm sorry if that's rude. But it's quite hard not to do. Anyways, you're looking for work? You are between jobs?”

Tsun thought for a moment, and then saying with a slow nod, “Yes. I guess.”

“Oh, excellent. Listen, I represent talent – by the way by name is Liao Han, Liao Charlie Han I'm sorry I didn't say so before – but I represent talent on the South Side. I've caught a few of your acts, and I would like to introduce you to my boss.”

“South? That's not music though, why would you think I would want to go to the South Side. If you're looking for a musician I should be crossing the Bund.”

The man laughed, “I know, but what's not to say you'll cross the Bund after this. I'm just looking for men with good and intriguing looks, and you got that and talent to go with it. My boss might be able to work with that. He's looking to expand his family after all.”

Tsun took on a few more noodles, and thought. The offer was intriguing, but very sudden. Taken by the surprise he wasn't hesitant to answer. But: south-side, the film studios? What might they want with them. He always figured they haunted the theaters and photographic journals looking for models. “So, you mean: movies?” he asked.

“Yes, sorry. I didn't quiet explain the project: yes I'm looking for people to be in a movie. Our family you see is, well, not quiet to scope for it. We're looking for someones to fill a few bits here and there. Upwards of a hundred fifty thousand yuan for the season, perhaps. It depends on how things work themselves out.”

“So...” Tsun paused, “an audition?”

Liao nodded, “Beginning this weekend.”

“I'm sorry, I have obligations this weekend.”

“It's not that big of a deal, really. They'll be going for the next few months as we look for people. Come by any time.” he reached into his breast pocket and produced a stiff business card. Tsun took it. “Liao Han – assistant talent director. Team Guo Yue-Huang. Pudong, Shanghai. 200051 Qiantan Blvd.”

“Guo Yue-Huang?”

“Are you familiar?”

“I've seen a few of his movies.”

“Oh yes, what are your favorites?”

“I'm not much of a fan for the wizards and sages and magic shit,” Tsun said, laughing uncomfortably, “But I figure The Darkest House was alright.”

“He is I believe going to be a pioneer in Chinese film making.” Liao Han said with a smile, shining his nails on his shirt, “By the way, my number is on the back. But: I do believe he is a pioneer. He's eclectic, sure, and doesn't have quiet the capital as some others do especially those in Hong Kong, but he hit upon a script that we're all excited about. This is going to be our break. And you would be lucky enough to get in on the ground floor of this if you are accepted. And for hundred-fifty: not a bad bet even if it doesn't go north.”

“What'd happen if it does?”

“Honorable Yue-Huang has a habit of seeing success bonuses are handed out to all in the family.” Han smiled.

“Well, it is not like I have much going on.” Tsun said, pocketing the card, “I'll see when I can make it.”

“Excellent!” Liao Han cheered, clapping his hand on the bar. His cheer attracted the subdued surprise and scorn of the patrons, “Auditions however will be ending by the middle of next month. So don't wait too long, your coming weekend obligations aside. I would be incredibly upset if you did not show.” he smiled, peeling away from the counter and checking his watch, “But I must go now. I hope to see you again.”

“Well why don't you look at that, a job came to you.” De said, returning, “Are you going to take it?”

“I might. I have a few weeks to think about it.”

“I think you should, it'd suit you. What can you lose?”



Draped in dark wood trappings and muted blue wall paper, the president's office was as executive suite was. It was trimmed up with the trappings of state, bunted along the ceiling with the rich blue flag of the Republic and the unofficial Flag of the Five Races. Portraits of Sun Yat-Sen, Yuan Shikai, Chiang Kai-Shek, as well as the other leading heads of state in those moments between and since hung from the wall. The room was dominated at one end by a large teak desk, raised off the floor by a miniature platform, its chair stood higher. The wall behind was dominated by large French windows, bordered by rich blue curtains. It was raining today, rain pelted the windows, shimmering with the light thrown by street lamps and the office lights. Li Su sat reclined at the desk chair, pushing himself back and forth with a leg, hands were clasped over his chest, a dour and detached look on his face. Behind him there was set up a wooden easel and portfolio brief. His desk had been cleared of paperwork and it was organized into folders and books arrayed at the edge of the desk or hidden in the number of cavernous drawers within it. State ministers were coming in now, taking comfortable positions at the plush dark leather sofas and armchairs that filled the middle of the room. Around the edges between cabinets of the president's personal effects and war memorabilia sat smaller cafe style tables where others sat in high bar-styled stools. TV Soong stood by the side of the room, next to a door through which was a personal room that Su had set aside for martial arts and meditation. The vice president himself was speaking to the foreign ambassador from Burma, a squat round headed man from Rangoon by the name of Sein Bien.

The room filled with the chatter and Li Su prepared himself for it to begin. He watched the door as the last of them arrived, most of all importance the British ambassador, Edward. Li Su greeted his arrival privately with bottled annoyance but relief. He carried a brief case under his arm to an armchair which was hurriedly abandoned for him to use. The door was closed behind him by security. Taking his seat he said nervously, “Sorry for the late arrival, Mr President, but I was caught up in traffic.”

“Would you like some tea?” the president asked.

“Oh, yes please.” Edward said, a little absently, “Thank you.”

Li Su gave a hand signal. A man in the corner of the room rose to his feet and rushed out the tall wood doors to fetch the order. “While we wait: we should begin.” the president said in a low tone, “Mr Soong, could you open us?”

“My pleasure.” he said, stepping into the middle of the room, “We're here today to open preliminary discussions over the partial reopening of, and expansion of the Burmese Road. In case none here are aware, the road was opened in the course of our war with Japan to allow the resupply of our forces by the British from India into South-west China. Since then, much of the original course has fallen into ruin and faded from use. Pertaining to the still ongoing conflict with the Japanese, it was determined by Xiu Lu and Ambassador Edward Grensill to be a subject of economic and strategic importance for the mutual survival of the economies of either of our nations. We seek to, through ambassador U Sein Bien determine the best possible course of action as it applies to his nation of Burma as much as it is an act of committed economic and political partnership with the British and the Federation.”

“Let me also add,” Li Su said loudly from his platform over his vice president, “That the completion of this project would allow and alternative route that would skirt around the naval battlefield of South East Asia and the South West Pacific in the Japanese persecution of war against the English and the Dutch. Though submarine attacks on civilian vessels are few and far between there have been moments where vessels under the flag of the British and Dutch were sunk by Japanese patrols. To date, only one other neutral ship has been torpedoed, that being a cargo freighter under the French flag. While I still commit to China a policy of neutrality in this conflict, with a commitment of only self defense should we be attacked, I can not and will not permit putting Chinese property, capital, and lives in danger casually. It benefits the Chinese state to continue free trade with her allies, and I take the threat of Japanese patrols against neutral ships very seriously. Since being informed by Xiu Lu of this plan, I feel that it would be a useful allocation of Chinese – and British – resources to blaze a new path for the resupply of her overseas friends. A clear and speedy path through Burma, clear of any conflict, would be the safest course to make.

“Today we are merely drafting the presidential proposal to submit to congress. But we have here with us the president of the Congress, Xiaogang Wen who has himself a proposal from the Congressional Developmeent Committee. But in the tradition of hospitality we have two guests among us today. I will let Ambassador Bien and Ambassador Grensil go first. Mr. Bien, do you mind?”

Sein Bien smiled politely and fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket. He wore a olive green military dress uniform, decorated with his ribbons and his rank. “Thank you Mr President.” he responded deferentially, “It would be my honor. But, I would rather cede my turn to Mr Grensil, thank you.”

Li Su nodded and turned to Edward Grensil who cleared his throat, and rose gently. “Thank you, Mr Bien.” he said with a polite bow, “Now, Mr President, if I may present the plan from the Foreign Office?” he asked, pulling out from his briefcase a map of Burma, on which the British plans were drawn. Li Su leaned up over the desk and took them, before putting them on the easel to be viewed.

The map was revealed to the room as it was set up. Two red lines intersected over Burma, completing the image of the country as a kite. “My government believes the most capable action is to entirely restore, and expand the old Burma road from Leto to Wanming, and to run a new line from the middle at Myitkyina south towards Rangoon, following the course of the Irrawaddy valley. The government in London would be willing to pay for the reconstruction of the India side of the project, and up to one-third of the north-south corridor with state funds.

“The reason the Foreign Office believes that it would of an advantage to also restore the Indian side of the road is for the relief of British private parties from India. Those of the civilian sort for evacuation from the sub-continent. It would not need to be a path laid with rail or entirely refurbished for long term modern usage, as its goal is to be a relief valve from the Indian conflict zone. In any time of peace to come, the route may be upgraded for commercial use from India to China or to Rangoon. The Federation undersecretary is sensitive of the regional diplomatic situation, but urges this to be a promise of the near future.”

“If I may,” Ambassador Bien interjected, “The British proposal is similar to our own. Though our government had not made any thoughts to expand anything all of the way into India. May I?”

Li Su nooded, and U Sein Bien came forward, producing his own map of the country with his own people's plans. It was placed over the British plan. “With a mind towards the advantage of following the Irrawaddy,” Sein began, stepping aside to reveal his map of Burma, “We can construct a powerful trunk for commerce to flow from China in the north to Rangoon in the South. The republic which I represent also offers the chance to expand the plan, and to ask to commission the refitting and modernization of old British railways in the area to serve as branch-lines to what the Internal Development Ministry dubbed the Irrawaddy Main Line.” he held out his hand to draw attention to the map of Burma. Branching off from the heavy red line that snaked gently through the city of Myitkyina in the north from the mountain border with China, along the course of the Irrawady to Rangoon in the south, a half dozen of smaller rail roads branched off into the highlands of the country's frontiers, “For several years the government has talked about and considered development of the nation's upper regions for development of capital extraction in the highlands which has been thus far stymied by the lack of commercial development, and the rapidly deteriorating Anglo development of the country. Since our independence, we have not been able to keep up, and through our recent civil wars it has been impossible to keep it all. But now under cease fire, we believe we have the opportunity to request foreign investment to expand and revive the old commercial networks to build a robust, centralized economic corridor through the country that may buy us peace in the future.”

Seeming to rise unnoticed from the sofa in the middle of the room to borrow some attention, Xiaogang Wen spoke, taking a moment to adjust his glasses higher up his broad nose. “I'm sorry, Mr President: but if I may?” he asked, half rising from the seat with a pale hand raised in the air. Li Su addressed him with a soft nod and the speaker for Congress spoke: “I'm happy to see that so far our two guests have had the same core idea as the Development Committee's proposal, independent of one another. This makes things easy. But for the sake of completion can I simply present our own?”

“Go ahead.” the president said.

“Very well, thank you.” Wen said. He motioned to the corner of the room where a congressional aid stepped forward, and placing over the previous two plans added a much simpler plan over all. Following much of the old supply road from the war, the simple core of a main rail road headed south, following generally the Irrawaddy valley to Rangoon existed. There was no other pleasantries. “The proposal of the committee was to take the purest aspect of the proposal to heart. Simply, if the project is to allow for commercial trade with Britain and their allies easier and to avoid the bulk of Japanese activities, then it is a direct route to Rangoon that recycles much of the old war-time supply route. The advantages will of course be that the plan would save considerable money, reusing much of the existing railway stocks left over. If I am correct on that.” he stopped to look at Sein Bien for confirmation.

“Yes, you're correct.” the ambassador confirmed.

“I can say in full confidence this is more or less the plan that this office has come up with as well.” TV Soong confirmed dryly, referring to the presidency and its ministries, “So I don't see any reason to bring up our own plan. Do you agree, Mr President.”

“I agree, let's keep things efficient.” said Li Su, “Mr Xiaogang I think we agree entirely in principle and goal. I'll concede our plan to yours. Their one of the same.”

“Thank you Mr President.”

“So we have the courses we can take. But what has to be said now is what is the better course. Edward, you offered capital investment from the British for the project, what would you government offer were we to drop the Ledo route?”

“If I recall it'd only be a twenty-five percent capital offer. We appraised our plan at roughly four-million pounds given the condition of the environment that we can ascertain at short notice. We would be able to find and allocate over a million pounds towards construction of this route.”

Li Su stole a glance to TV Soong at his side. The vice president was however motionless and hard to read, “You are certain that the British offer would not spill the war out into the general region?” he asked.

“I am certain. I do not believe that I am in any position to discuss any military plans with anyone in regards to Ledo. I have been told to say that there is a project underway to discuss with the rebel armies in India measures to protect civilians. A route out of India through Burma and beyond would make for a safer and structured way from India.”

“Pray tell: what do the British plan to do with the refugees already in Burma?” the Burmese ambassador asserted, “Every day thousands more cross the border from Bengal into out countryside. Will you help up remove them to your territory, or the Federation in general under this proposal?”

“Well, I'm afraid this would depend on where these refugees are at.” Edward responded rather nervously, “I am again only under the ability to present the Ledo plan. If there's any intention to expand anything else, it's between you and the Chinese.”

“Whatever the British might offer, I am authorized to announced Rangoon would be willing to find loans for a million or more as well to simply expand the network. If it is necessary, I can contact my superiors for a change of plan to accommodate. You, Mr President sir won't have to see the network reach to India. But probably we can have it make it half way into the Kachin or Naga Hills.”

“Are you going to recommend the two of us negotiate further on this?” Edward asked, a stunned shock peaked in his voice which was not unmet by Bien.

“Yes. Does the Foreign Office not want to recognize the fault it has in forcing so many Bengali Kala into our borders?”

“Mr Bien, sir.” TV Soong spoke up, “We will not be litigating the ongoing crises in India here.” Li Su nodded, “If I can direct you to the point: the proposed railroad.”

Bien smiled, and sighing turned away from Edward and bowed, “I'm sorry.”

“Mr Ambassador Bien,” Xiogang Wen said, reclining back in his sofa, “If I may ask – and could we perhaps look at the Burmese plan please, Mr President” Li Su leaned over and removed the simple Congressional plan to show the Burmese proposal for the road, “Thank you – but if I can ask what the purpose is of the branches spun off from the main line is?”

“Simply put, our government would like to lay new or upgraded lines to our most promising regions in upper Burma. The region is marked for its under-development but possess considerable promise in the nation as being resource rich if only we can deploy labor and bring materials to market.” sighing he looked momentarily to Edward and back up to Li Su, “Access to these raw deposits would be available to British and Chinese firms alike were it permitted to reach market. But trapped as they are underground and in inaccessible hills and valleys, the vast fortunes of wealth stored there, wealth that can build a nation, remain out of reached. The Kachin Hills are rich in storied supplies of jade. Shan State has been prospected and developed for the extraction of further metals, but the government now can not simply acquire these materials in recent years for lack of infrastructure. For lack of development, the prospect of development there holds the country back. We can not develop in peace if we do not first gain access and logistics for these commodities. I trust you understand this, Mr. President, Mr Xiogang and Soong.”

“May I ask what contributions the government is willing to make?” Soong asked Bien.

“We will need to apply for loans. But we believe we can get some million or more to offer. If it's possible, perhaps some other financing can be allocated.”

“What about the conditions of your ceasefires?” the President asked, leaning in.

“It has been a year at the least of no sustained engagement.” Bien Sein said, “But our government is responsible for further development of the affected state were this to be a true peace.”

Edward spoke up, shifting in his seat, “If you do not mind me asking where do these branch lines go?”

“At the furthest south is a line that has been proposed to Sittwe, which would come from Rangoon. Further north is a proposed branch from Katha to Lashio, it perhaps even be an alternative route into Burma from China, with a future extension from Lashio into China.”

“Into Kunming, I believe.” Xiogang Wen added, he idly scratched at his chin, but his eyes were bright with attention none the less. From the corner of his eye, Li Su caught Soong look up at him and then away.

“On pure speculation on the mineral deposits – and this speaks to Edward's interests in development in the direction of Ledo – is expansion of the rail to the upper Chindwin river valley. Here commercial and industrial freight would create a beach head into the upper jade country. The government would also like a spur from Mandalay to Kalay on the western frontier with India.”

There was a period of silence and thought, broken by Wen asking, “What is the supposed value of the material in these regions?”

“It could be worth billions on a long enough time line.” said Bien Sein.

“Billions that can only be access once development can be done.” TV Soong said, “Suppose there is nothing there, then what?”

“These branch lines don't need to be intensive. All the government is asking for is the logistics to deploy equipment and technicians into these regions to do the exploration. They may even come after the main project.”

TV Soong considered it for a moment, and then rose. “Mr President, if we can talk for a minute in private.

Li Su looked over and nodded. “Let's have a break for a couple minutes.” he said, following Soong through the side door.

Su's private training room was sparse, decorated with a few hanging scrolls of the antique and even modern sort. A bamboo mat covered the floor, with training dummies abound. A single chair was placed by the window. In all it was a small room, serving mostly as a liminal space between private apartments and the working and ceremonial office of the president.

“Are you thinking it might be used for them to deploy their own troops?” Li Su asked, thinking about the Burma railroads

TV Soong was silent for a few long seconds, “Possibly.” he said quietly, “The value in the region feels inflated though.”

“But he could be right on that.”

“He could.”

“If these projects were financed however it would be impossible for us to keep them from being used for military purposes. It is their infrastructure.” Li Su pointed out.

“I agree. But suppose we offered our own technical assistance in that front. We can hold our skills against them in the event of the war. But I don't want to put us on the financial hook for a speculative failure at the least.”

“So, what do you have in mind, money man?”

Again falling into silence, Soong considered his options, “Xiogang Wen might approve of this: but we put up the Chinese support as stock supported. If we go in and it passes congress we sell most of our commitment as futures and organize it in bonds and stocks supported on the value the project accumulates over a five and ten year period. After that period, the holdings are valued at the commercial value of the road and they can sell, or the company joined to it can pay dividends on it. We do a pretty basic public ownership model that way. We put down some state money ourselves to start it. From Bien Sein's model we can adopt the British position and have a bulk of the project paid for. Aside from any emergency funds, our government's stake is minimal.”

Li Su considered it, and nodded, “I can keep it closer if I buy as much as I can in my son's name.”

“Classic.” Soong smirked.

“Quiet, we're agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“So we might have gotten everyone in. Let's go.”

Turning on their heels the two re-entered the room. Immediately low chatter ended as the two came in and the president took his seat, “We have some questions over financing...”

Frank spent his days walking around the city with a plastic bag, looking for any discarded pieces of gum. He would carefully scoop them up with his gloved hands, examining each piece to see if it was worthy of his collection. His friends and family thought he was nuts, but Frank didn't care. He was in love with his collection of chewed-up gum.

Frank found himself in the middle of the busiest street in Andorra City during rush hour. He was so preoccupied with looking for gum that he didn't notice the huge crowd of people around him. Suddenly, he was pushed and jostled by the sea of bodies, and before he knew it, Frank was tumbling down the street, his plastic bag full of gum flying out of his hands and scattering across the road.

As Frank picked himself up off the ground and brushed himself off, he realized that he had lost most of his valuable collection. This was a tragedy that could not be allowed to stand. Frank sprang into action, crawling around on the asphalt, picking up pieces of gum and stuffing them back into his bag.

The people around him were absolutely baffled by this strange man, crawling around on the road, collecting old gum. They tried to avoid him, but Frank was too focused on his mission to care. Suddenly, a stray dog appeared on the scene, sniffing around the discarded pieces of gum. Frank watched in horror as the dog licked up several pieces before trotting off down the street.

Frank was horrified. Not only had he lost most of his gum collection, but now he had to worry about a dog with terrible breath. He couldn't let this stand. He quickly ran after the dog, bag of gum in hand, determined to get his pieces back.

The chase took Frank all over Andorra City, through streets and alleys and parks, with the dog always one step ahead. Frank was so focused on his pursuit that he didn't realize he was being followed by a crowd of people, all watching his strange antics with amusement.

Finally, Frank cornered the dog and managed to grab the pieces of gum from its mouth. Triumphantly, he held up his bag of gum, ignoring the laughter and odd looks from the people around him.

From that day on, Frank stayed away from the busy streets of Andorra City during rush hour. He still collected gum, but he learned to be a bit more careful about it. And the people of Andorra City never forgot the strange man who chased a dog for a bag of chewed-up gum.



Once upon a time, there was a spy from Andorra named Juan Ramón. He had been tasked by his government to gather intel on neighboring countries. One day, while he was on a mission in San Marino, he discovered a secret nuclear program.

Juan Ramón had to act fast because the smallest hiccup in his actions would blow his cover. He used his wits and acumen to infiltrate the program and gather information. It took him months to piece together information and decode encrypted files.

Juan Ramón's heart sank when he realized the enormity of what he had stumbled upon. San Marino was developing and testing nuclear weapons. This news could trigger a massive war and human annihilation.

Juan Ramón contacted the Andorran government and shared his findings. They assured him that they would take action and thanked Juan Ramón for his bravery and intelligence. News of the program was leaked to the international community and pressure was put on San Marino to abandon the program.

In the subsequent months, Juan Ramón's life was in danger, but his government secured him and his family's safety.

The entire situation had been a huge success thanks to Juan Ramón's unwavering courage and innate command. He had saved thousands of lives and potentially prevented a great global war. From that day, Juan Ramón was viewed as a hero and the spy who outsmarted the unexpected.

((OOC: I feel great relief in that no matter how bad my writing was, I can still write better than this piece of shit AI))

Pertaining to a joint tripartite investigation (hence: THE INVESTIGATION) by Committee Of Territorial Defense (hence: THE COMMITTEE) - Executive Yuan military cabinets – and the Judicial Yuan, The Committee sought legal parameters for the operation of Chinese military assets and institutions in event of war with Japan, pertaining to demands the Federal Republic of China (hence: THE NATION) may make against them. In review of histories and present commitments the Investigation reviewed what may be awarded to The Nation's in victory over Japan as exists in The Nation's national and international agreements. Combined with a force overview of military assets and a review of both civilian and military intelligence over the forces of the Japanese Empire we set out to propose the scale at which the Nation can act in the event of war, and outline the extent of authority the Nation can exert against the Japanese Empire in event territorial gains vs the Japanese. The Investigation is headed by:



The findings of the Investigation were submitted to the Committee on August 25th 1955.



The Investigation determined that the direct threats to The Nation's territorial integrity by the Japanese are their ongoing occupation of the Korean Peninsula, and the Island of Formosa. The Japanese on Formosa has been a continuing reality since the Treaty of Simonoseki. And on Korea since the 1910 Japanese-Korean treaty. From these positions, any escalations of hostilities from Japan gives the enemy nation a position from which:

• To invade China by land
• Harass southern ports and endanger up to 70% of the Nation's international trade

Disruption to northern industry by a Japanese land invasion from Korea would very likely have disastrous consequences to the heavy industry sector of the north, further compounding economic dangers to the Nation by the Japanese should the Japanese embark on a two-pronged land-invasion and convoy raiding.

While military leadership indicates that with high troop numbers relative to that of the Japanese and an overall condition of the Army as being “fresh” compared against the Japanese military, the dangers of convoy raiding to the Nation's economy would be considerably high and carry high risk for the Nation and the impending threat of refugees at the head of Japanese invasion in the first phase from Korea would put civil strain on northern population centers and endanger major hydroelectric dams. These structures, we are obliged to recognize by history were constructed by the Japanese in the early and middle phases of their occupation of the north in the thirties and forties and represent known factors and strategic targets for the Japanese military.

Given relative troop readiness between the Nation and Japan, it is the opinion of the Committee that a conflict with Japan would highly probably succeed and end with the defeat of the Japanese armed forces, and additional territory occupied by our forces. Which is henceforth the mission of The Investigation to determine the strongest course of action in the event of. Supporting intelligence by the army and their self-assessment contains the calculation of the war cost, but is for the foreseeable future classified intelligence and out of the scope of The Investigation's report. The Investigation as such seeks to outline for future government to possible courses we may take as a nation on:

• The Korean Peninsula
• The Island of Formosa

As based on the intelligence and information available to us.



The Nation shares commitments and promises with the Provisional Korean Republic in sharing the vision of an independent Korean nation. As headed by Syngman Rhee, we bear a diplomatic priority and a singular goal to restoring an independent Korea in the event of war with the Japanese.



We recognize that the administration of the Qing Empire took on suzerainty of Formosa with historical apprehension, and that up to that moment the Imperial State had little interest to rule over the island of Formosa, and during the period of Chinese rule before the seizure of the island by the Japanese the population had until that point little interest in being a subject of the Nation and that it has been sixty years. As such it the opinion of the Investigation that the options we have towards Formosa may prove to be the most contentious and there are options available to the Nation on which to act towards it:

• That in recognizing Formosa as Chinese territory, and amending the clause of the Republican Constitution that the land of the Republic of China incorporates all the lands controlled by the Qing Empire at the time of its drafting
• To assist in the bringing about of an Independent Formosa

To incorporate Formosa into the Nation would require an acknowledgment of the historical complexities that the island has shared with the mainland during even its brief time as a subject of the Qing court, that the native population of Formosa – both of Chinese descent and non-Chinese descent – share little relationship with China save through the observation of their fieliel piety. But that all the same the Nation states in its Constitution the representation of all Chinese nationals abroad, and so the population of Formosa all the same most come to realize a national relationship with the Nation.

If provided independence, its most apparent value would be to serve as a base for the military to serve in defending the southern coastline. But in this reality the historical course of Formosa is allowed to run its course after so many long decades under foreign occupation. And so that the people of Formosa become friends of the Nation.

In the opinions of the Investigation, it is our belief the best course of action towards Formosa is to set the island to a vote by its people to decide between integration within the Republic, or national independence of its people and that this vote should take place within two years of its occupation and surrender to the Nation by Japan.



It has been the mission of the Investigation to see into the matter surrounding the obstacles surrounding the seizing of certain territories occupied by the Japanese. We do not set out an advisory on what is to be done should the Nation occupy the Japanese. We leave this matter to a future administration, legislative body, and entirely new committee. We do not possess the legal purview to settle that subject. And it is in the opinion of the Investigation to not consider such a subject. This Investigation has been carried out as an advisory affair for future use.




A headline lay splashed across the title page of the Shanghai National Tribune, announcing in no uncertain terms: “COUNTY WIDE RENTIERS STRIKE IN WUHU, MAANSHAN COUNTIES, ANHUI”. Hou Tsun read the headline indifferently as he sat on the small balcony of his apartment. The air today was hot, suffocatingly humid. The sky dark, rain rolling in from the sea. He sat with his shirt off, feet raised against the deck rail as he leaned back in a wicker chair. Habitually he licked a finger as he went and turned the page, lazily reading the article as he slowly reached for the corner of the paper.



He turned the page and started just scanning headlines. Not taking anything in. On the overturned milk crate next to him sat a glass of water melting in the heat and humidity. A thick coat of condensation from glass soaking deep into the shoddy wood of the crate. In the streets below the trolley passed, ringing its bell and people meandered about the sidewalks. Somewhere on the far side of the park his apartment straddled, a vendor called out that he was serving “cold treats” without description as to what they were. In the shade of the boughs the laughing and cries of children could be heard as high-noon faded and they came home from school.

For much of the day he Tsun had shuffled about looking for work, but was not wholly interested. He had played a show in a local club last night and made enough to pay off the rent and bills for the month. He'd have to do some scrounging to get a meal, but did not feel particular pressure on his shoulders. He had packs of dried noodles tucked away, and had a few friends he could visit. There was also the promise of the job in the movies that he still entertained. He had some time yet, he knew. Having counted it all together he concluded he wasn't starving, and was doing well enough for now.

On the culture page he read the headline for an article about a new radio show for the Shanghai English radio broadcasting network. It said: “Maintaining America Abroad: Brown Hi's New Show”

Tsun stopped his thumbing through, and looked at the article. It was a fairly brief review of a new radioshow: “The emigre American, Brown Himan has not been a stranger to being on the move. Ever since the ascent of the ultra-conservative nationalist politics of America, the son of a Ukrainian Hebrew tailor has traveled between the many American-Abroad communities, comprising of varying progressive and left-wing political activists, or American-Minority groups who fled persecution from the United States, waiting for the day when the situation at home may sometime change and moderate so that they may go home. Or even: make a new life. Brown for the moment: seems to have settled on opening a new chapter in Shanghai.

“Coming to Shanghai by way of Hong Kong where he produced a mystery thriller serial for the radio there, before which he had lived briefly among the Ukrainian diaspora of Vladivostok he has landed in the Shanghai Bund where has written and pitched a futurist anthology of thrillers. He became the director-producer of a small collective of American writers and actors in the Hongkou district to record and air their show Electric Odyssey in the English language on the AMKN radio station, the English-language radio station.

“'We hope to keep a little bit of the art of the old United States going', he said in an interview with the Yangtze Cultural Association, 'and perhaps also for a bridge between us and our Chinese hosts'

“The show airs weekly every Friday, and has been on the air for a month. So far the four episodes are tightly contained sixty-minute short story broadcasts and contain remarkably well paced plots...”

Tsun got bored, and went on, going back and forth between the headlines before putting the paper down and looking out into the city.





They could not see it, but they knew it was there. The weather had turned bleak suddenly and a cold wind was blowing over them from the north-west. Carried on it was a cloud of sand and dust picked up from somewhere over Mongolia or Xinjiang. But from the other direction came a thunderbolt from Nianjing. Contained in a military aircraft, its humming engines could be heard even over the gusting of the wind as the men stood ready to receive it on the tarmac of the airstrip. Their army coats whipped violently in the wind, their collars pulled all the way up to shield them from the weather. Some of the men present had put on goggles to shield against the dust. Feng Lu had forgone the eye protection, but regretted it. The particulate heart his eyes, and he squinted hard against it. In his gut he was afraid he was making himself look like an old Hui man with his eyes shut so narrow against the wind, and his shoulders went more rigid at disgust at the thought. He was already on edge, having learned so late in the proceedings that somewhere in central army command someone had gone above and around him and what had been assured to be a normal process to find someone else to take the reign. Quan Yu was there too, as a formality. But the old officer did not show any distinct mood one way or the other. His face obscured by his cap and collar, he looked like a hobbled round sage with his back hunched against the wind and his arms left hanging to his side.

Suddenly through the gray-brown weather the plane was sighted making its approach. Its descent alternated, at once being slow and then becoming fast and sharp. Deep in his chest Lu hoped that a burst of air would simply knock it out of the sky and send it dashing into the rocks and they would be done with it. But alas, no such favor was granted to them. Finding their approach awkward, the pilots skillfully peeled off and disappeared back into the sky to circle around again and try again. Perhaps they hoped the weather might clear a bit more and they could find the runway amenable to them. Lu simply wished conditions would get worse and knock them out of the sky one way or another. The silhouette of the large airplane simply stoked his jealousy. In a moment, the sound of the engines disappeared. He knew it was because it had flown off distantly to circle. Minutes later it confirmed it had not snuffed itself out, and reappeared low over the ground making a gentle descent to the runway.

The guard mustered to great their new commanding officer rose their rifles in salute as the airplane taxied down the runway, gently rocking back and forth and tail swinging to and fro in the wind before it came to a stop. Not seconds after it came to a stop a ground crew ran up to it with a ramp and the door opened, spilling out into the cold Qinghai storm a stream of junior officers gathered around their peacock senior officer as he stepped out into the storm, head down and hand to his cap. Feng Lu noticed he wore gloved. Feng Lu stiffened himself to salute, as did Quan Yu.

The new commander, Fen Yu-Wen came near and barely rose his head to look at them. Lu noticed he wore glasses, large square lenses that he noted dryly were beginning to cake with dust around the edge. The two men looked at each other square in the eyes, and Yu-Wen offered the most curt and short salute he might offer at the time. He said nothing, and Lu noticed then that he had wrapped cloth around his mouth to keep from breathing in the dust. With a white gloved hand he pointed off into the near distance at the concrete structure that was the airfield building. “Yes general, sir,” Quan Yu said shouting, hobbling in from the side, “Let us take you inside.”

Fen Yu-Wen nodded energetically, and went impatiently in behind Quan Yu, Feng Lu close in third surrounded by the new commander's staff of followers.

Once inside, the door was closed and the sound of the wind fell silent, muffled by the concrete and carpet. Now free of the wind, everyone cleared their lungs and beat the sand from their coats. Fen Yu-Wen straightened his back and violently shook the collar of his coat to free it of dust, and removed his cap and shook it over his hand. Feng Lu noted that he was balding, his hair thin over the top of his head. Clearing his throat he removed the fabric from over his thin, long lips and adjusted his uniform. “For a post that I was assured would be fashionable, it is a shame about the weather.” he gripped. He removed his glasses and taking a cloth from a pocket in his coat began cleaning the lenses before putting them on. He noticed then too that his white gloves had already become soiled and tan from the storm and removed them, shaking off any loose dust as he continued: “Perhaps I may have to move everything back south.” he said in a low voice.

“All the same, it's a pleasure.” Quan Yu said deferentially, with a bow. He turned slightly from him to look at Feng Yu, demanding with his eyes that he grant him the honors too.

Reluctantly, Feng Lu bowed, and Yu-Wen reciprocated. “You must be Quan Yu and Feng Lu then,” he said matter of factly, “A pleasure to make your acquaintances. I'm sorry to say though,” he continued, turning to Feng Lu in particular, “That I was able to bring my own staff.”

“I... understand.” Lu said reluctantly.

“As I'm sure you were told, you are not being relieved of any command. So whatever section of the district was still under your command, then so it will remain.” Yu-Wen smiled, as if presenting a gift to him. He looked at either of them hoping also either of them had a gift but the room was silent. He cleared his throat and said, “excellent. Could we perhaps have a drink, it's been a long flight and I at least am parched. Shall we?”

“Yes, this way.” Feng Lu said quickly, taking charge. He looked over at Quan Yu in the moment it took him to turn and saw him smile with approval. They turned down the hall of the airfield building towards a small office where they might get some water. Unless either of them wanted to go back into the weather, it would have to do.

“Do you...” Lu began uncertainly as they went, “do you happen to need any briefing on the subject of Tibet?”

“Thank you, but I won't.” Fen Yu-Wen said, “I received a strategic briefing on the situation in Beijing and reviewed the district intelligence on the way over. I still have more to go over, but I have the relevant information. Short, of course of a review and tour of the area and units involved.”

“Ah- yes.” said Lu. He felt he would have had a moment to make something of himself to the new commander and salvage something of his career in the process. The maneuverings of Nanjing left him feeling bruised. “If I may, though,” he continued all the same, hoping he was not revealing too much of his anger and jealousy, “was there any reason why- erm,” he knew the subject was sensative and tried to look over in the corner of his eyes to his former senior officer for approval, but it dawned on him he had already committed. Stopping by the doors to the office lounge Fen Yu-Wen was looking at him expectantly. This close, he was notably shorter than he, and perhaps it was the light but he had a shade darker tone of skin. How far south did he come from, he wondered to himself but recovered from this distraction, “how it was you got this post?”

Fen Yu-Wen raised a brow and coughed under his breath. He looked to Quan Yu as if to ask if this was something in particular. The retiring officer did not give comment or hint at anything. Finally he said, “Seniority.” The response was barbed and distrustful, and even offended at the question Lu realized. With a breath Yu-Wen clarified, “Namely while your career record his admirable, it was decided last minute that such an important command shouldn't be under the command of someone so young. That it should be optimally commanded by someone with more lineage.” he said, the tone of his voice dropping somewhat as if talking down to an enlistedman.

The office lounge doors opened, and the entourage spilled in. Yu-Wen immediately claimed an arm chair and a glass of water was quickly provided to him by one of his personal staff. “If I may,” Quan Yu said, knowingly inserting himself into the conversation, “The post during much of my time wasn't considered a priority and was considered mostly as containment. Has there been a change?”

Yu-Wen looked first over to Fen Yu and took a sip of water before answering with heavy thought to his words, “Not quiet.” he said, rather restrained.

“Not quiet?” repeated Quan Yu.

“This command, at least here may not be fashionable, unlike the North East, but it's being considered a promotion over all. People in Nanjing are moving to finally fill the void on the plateau and reign in what's now being discussed as a recalcitrant province. If not finished, the long drive west is to be made one step more complete.”

Quan Yu nodded, his eyes lighting up a bit. But he must not have thought it his place because he said nothing else. Feng Lu caught what was happening, and nodded. “Ah, very well!” he said, hoping he was announcing just enough excitement.

Yu-Wen smiled wide and bowed in his direction from the chair, “Perhaps a feather in your cap for a fashionable appointment someday.” he said, sounding nearly mocking of him, “At least, in so far as that damned Communist doesn't win.”

“I don't play too much politics.” Quan Yu said humbly. Yu-Wen laughed, catching the joke.

“I worry if he had his way he will sooner dash the Constitution against the wall and split the Nation up more. He be damned. I need a harder drink though. I want a celebration of my flight. And to a new era!”