Bob stood at the balcony of his room for a moment in silence, taking in the morning sounds and smells as the sun warmed his face. This part of China in Western Xia is beautiful, Bob thought as he laced up the Tunic of his Armored Dress Uniform. Bob was in one of the guest rooms provided at Nilga Senggum's temporary refuge in Xixia, overlooking the banks of the Yangtze river. When they gave him this room, at first, he couldn’t believe his luck but he had a hard time sleeping last night. Not only because of the meeting today, but because of the strange surroundings. Although his room was quite beautiful, he preferred his tents of felt to these walls of rock and wood, and of course his new bride. She was indescribably beautiful. He could hardly imagine the luck he had at winning her. Like her, the view of the river was amazing. A cool breeze rolled in with the sweet smell of the Cole flowers growing from the banks of the river.

The sliding of his door broke the harmony. He turned to find a young corporal standing at attention. Bob remembered when he was that young. A tall, proud, and naïve corporal of his tribe. He winced slightly at the memory of it. He recalled when the great Genghis Khan had defeated their army and folded the ranks in to his own as easily as a corporate merger. Now just a small part of this great Mongol army. The Corporal handed Bob the sealed invitation to today’s meeting. The young corporal was obviously sent to escort Bob to the meeting. Bob opened the invitation, it read;

Noting the invitation, he placed it in his Goat skinned brief case along with his Gap Report on Mongol Low Income Housing. The corporal walked over and retrieved his brief case from the table as Bob walked out.

The gardeners worked diligently on the artfully designed floral landscapes as Bob crossed the court yard. Bob was feeling a little apprehensive about the meeting. Operation Rollback he thought, Operation Hostile Takeover is a better name for it. It’s literally a Regime Change. Replacing the old authority with the new Mongol Government. The last so called Rollback Genghis Khan lead wiped out 3 large villages and Ted. Yeah, he thought, poor Ted. Genghis Khans recent invention of stirrups for saddles didn’t sit well with Ted. He was heard saying “My Father, and his Father, and his Fathers Father didn’t need no stirrups!”. Sadly, Ted was found the next day in the field of the initial charge covered in hoof prints.

The meeting was taking place at an open walled Pagoda. Large black columns supported its red tiled roof. Decorating the columns stood motionless guards. Suspended from the rafters were colorful ornate lanterns swinging lightly in the morning breeze. As Bob approached, several other attendees descended on to the structure with cordial banter. Bob walked up a brief set of stairs to discover the enormous size of the area, seemingly dwarfing the lone conference table, despite its extreme size. At the head of the table stood Colonel Yuen Larson. A formidable warrior, standing at a staggering five foot nine, he towered above everyone else. His long, lean mustache was only rivaled by the length of his hair. His massive hands welcomed attendees heartily as they approached.

Bob began looking for just the right position at the conference table. Far enough away from the head as to not be noticed, but not so far as to appear to be hiding. As if he sensed it, Larson stepped out from behind the head of the table towards Bob.

“Bob, how are you?” Larson half shouted as he moved towards Bob. “How was your trip?” Larson grabbed his right hand firmly and shook it, while his left hand grabbed him by the arm leading him towards the head of the table.

“Tedious, as usual.” Bob remarked.

“Come sit next to me Bob, we don’t stand on ceremony in this house.” Larson said as he escorted Bob to the head of the table at his right. Bob found the statement baffling considering they had a ceremony for just about every move they made. He was also a little surprised at Larson’s enthusiasm at his arrival. The back of his neck began to lightly throb with paranoia.

As the room began to settle in at the conference table, the Colonels Adjutant, Mister Parks, walked up. He presented some papers to Larson, then turned, facing away from the conference table and whisper into Larson’s ear. Larson continued to read the documents as he listened to Mister Parks.

The room began to quiet down now they had assembled around the conference table. “Okay everyone, please be seated.” Mister Parks spoke loudly. Grabbing up a stack of documents, he began to circle the table, dispersing the reports as he went. “Gentlemen”, he said. “What you have before you is the efficiency report for last quarter. In this report you will find an efficiency rating of all departments in Appendix B2. The listed contents will show you where to find the comprehensive report on each of your departments along with a breakdown of each category. Please take a few minutes to review.” As Mister Parks rounded the conference table, he seemed to run out of reports, leaving Bob without a copy.

Larson looked over at Bob, “Ooohh, I’m sorry about that Bob. Mister Parks, can we do something about this?” He said, gesturing towards Bob.

Mister Parks, who had now seated himself next to Colonel Larson and opposite of Bob leaned over and said, “unfortunately sir, these were the only ones we could get done in time. The local scribe had a tragic accident this morning involving soup.”

“Soup?” Larson asked questioningly.

“Yes sir, it seems Leon mistook him for local livestock after meeting the man’s wife.”

“You mean?...”

“Only his hand sir. It took 5 of us to get Leon back to the kitchen, but we had to promise he could keep the hand.” Parks offered, “Don’t worry sir, that soup was given to the front line troops.”

“Excellent!” declared Larson.

“Yes sir,” Parks said, “however it may be some time before we can produce document copies again.”

“I understand.” Larson replied. Then looking at Bob, he said “Just share with Timothy.”

Bob looked over at Timothy, the department head of Marketing and Propaganda. Timothy had aggressively eaten three of the pages already and turned to Bob with a low, guttural growl. Bob looked back at Larson questioningly, but Larson just shrugged.

“Mister Parks,” Larson asked, “What’s the first item on the itinerary?”

“Sir, that would be the issue of efficiency.”

“Uh-hum” Larson cleared his throat, “Yes, of course. First off”, he spoke loudly, “I want to convey to all of you just how pleased and impressed I am with this month’s numbers. Since the efficiency initiative began, every department has improved over seven percent!”

“BANG!! HO! HO!... HU! HO!” The table vibrated with the chant as fists slammed on the table. “BANG!! HO! HO!... HU! HO!”

Larson stood and shouted above the chant, “Yes, you should all be proud!” quieting the participants. Larson began to move around the table. “Every one of you has made a remarkable improvement.” He pointed across the table at a tall wiry figure, “Jack, thanks to you, the supply chain to our soldiers has improved twelve percent.” Jack, the head of Logistics nodded with a triumphant smile. As Larson rounded the corner of the table he pointed at a stocky muscular man with many weaves in his hair. “Steve, because of your incredible management skills over our Smiths, the armory has increased seventeen percent, and may I add, has never looked better!” Steve, the department head of manufacturing stood and took two short bows before sitting back down smugly. “Unfortunately,” Larson began, “though all of you have made remarkable strides, a few of these strides did not quite meet the target numbers required by the Emperor.” Bobs heart jumped. Could this be why a copy of the report wasn’t given to him?

Larson walked up behind the Transportation Department head, Jo Li, and placed his hands on Jo’s shoulders and said with a rising voice, “The great and powerful Emperor, Genghis Khan, needs your support. Your BELIEF! YOUR LOYALTY, AND ABOVE ALL, YOUR OBEDIENCE!” Jo froze, immediately prepared for the worst. Larson pointed across the table at the Director of Sanitation, Marshal Li. Jo Li’s second cousin.

In a disappointed voice, Larson said to Marshal, “The emperor expects more of you. Nine percent has deeply wounded him. How will you redeem yourself?” Quickly and silently, in a single move, Marshals ring finger fell to the table. With a cloth he pulled from his pocket, he picked up his finger, lowered his head and held it out as an offering to Larson. Larson glanced over at Mister Parks who was already headed over to retrieve the offering.

This had put the entire room on edge. Bob felt himself grow cold and clammy. He hadn’t been able to see the efficiency report, and now he was sure his numbers would also disappoint the Emperor.

Before Larson could point out his next victim, Trevor, the commissary manager, stood from his seat, pulled out his sword, knelt on one knee, head down, offering his sword up to Larson. Larson walked over to Trevor, placing his hand on Trevor’s shoulder said, “no, my friend, no more blood will spill today”.

Bob suddenly realized he was holding his breath. He released it slowly with relief that no more blood would be shed. The room visibly relaxed. Trevor stood and sheathed his sword. Larson looked over at Mister Parks and gave him a short nod. With that, Mister Parks stood and clapped his hands twice. Two men trotted in with three bundled logs between them. Trevor, seeing the logs knew what was next. He turned to Larson and bowed. Kneeling on both knees he allowed the two men to place the logs on the back of Trevor’s legs. Trevor was then bent backward over the logs until his back broke. About 20 minutes later Trevor had earned his honor back with the Emperor and was dragged away.

Larson, who had returned to the head of the table and had been in deep conversation with Mister Parks turned his attention back to the meeting. “It is very fortunate that the great and powerful Emperor, Genghis Khan has granted us an opportunity in death to regain our honor.”

“BANG!! HO! HO!... HU! HO!” The room agreed.

Then Larson turned his attention towards Bob. “Bob! Mister Parks was filling me in on your report on low income housing. It looks good Bob. Excellent work. I don't really care for the money involved. Have there been any problems with the housing authority?”

Stunned by the change in direction of the meeting, Bob stammered out “I'm absolutely sure the vote will go in favor.” Clearing his throat, he continued. “The job re-creation angle is enough to ensure it. There were two or three members holding out against it, but after some discussion, we were able to put together a little deal over central heating in tenement buildings. I think it will be a blanket vote.”

“Are you sure?” Larson asked with a wide smile.

“Absolutely sure.” Bob guaranteed.

“That’s good work Bob.” With that he pulled out a cigar case. In the time he had pulled out the cigar, cut the ends and placed it in his mouth a small, wiry man had bolted out and back with a burning branch. Larson leaned forward and puffed the cigar to life. “Any negatives at this point in the project” Larson continued, “would become just another - China Almost Was.” He laughed. “While we're out here we're supposed to improve the quality of life! Create jobs! And make a whole lot of money!”

The room broke out in a roar of laughter and settled into their chant of “BANG!! HO! HO!... HU! HO!”

Mister Parks stood and quieted the room with a few loud shouts.

Larson stood once again and began circling the conference table. “Gentlemen, another issue has come to my attention. Something that has greatly concerned the Emperor, and he is calling on us to resolve this issue.” Everyone stared intently, ready to leap and become the savior of this new problem. As if on cue, a runner appeared with a leather bag, spilling the contents onto the conference table. It was Bill, the Emperors ambassador in Xiangyang. A tiny, smelly, mudhole of a town they conquered last spring.

“It seems the management we left in power is no more.” Larson began. “Now, troops have already been sent, along with replacement management to re-establish control. However, we can’t allow this to become the new normal. So, in recognition of his outstanding work in Mongol low income housing, the great and powerful emperor, Genghis Khan has commanded the immediate commission of Ambassadorship to Bob!”

“BANG!! HO! HO!... HU! HO!” as the chant went into its third rendition, the vibrations caused Bills disembodied head to slowly turn towards a very unnerved Bob. The tongue brought it to a stop leveling one dry and dusty eye to stare into Bobs soul. Unlike the others, Bob felt himself becoming physically ill at the thought. This isn’t a promotion, he thought. This is a death sentence.

Again, Mister Parks had to shout quite loudly to stop the enthusiastic roar.

“Of course, Bob,” Larson’s voice boomed. “As the Ambassador of the great powerful emperor, Genghis Khan. Not only will you have your pick of the local females, you will be supplied with your own private guards.” Proudly he says, “I selected them myself.” Bob felt better about the guards. But he would have liked to have handpicked them for himself.

Larson finished his walk around the table, focusing on Bob he reached down, grabbed Bobs hand firmly and yanked Bob upright in an enthusiastic hand shake. “Congratulations Bob. Excellent Work. I bet you can’t wait to get home and tell the new wife.” He said with glee.

“Uh, yeah. Yes sir. It’ll be a complete surprise to her, I’m sure.” Bob said as the fog in his head cleared.

“Oh, Bob, one thing though. I realize you’re a newlywed and all, but your wife will have to stay here, for her own safety of course.”

“Of, course?” Bob said questioningly.

“Don’t you even worry about it though Bob. The great and powerful emperor, Genghis Khan has already generously commanded me to offer her lodgings in his house hold while you are gone.”

The End