Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus
Chapter XXXII – The Valley of the Shadow of Death
The army answered with a flare of its own, but, maddened by thirst and driven by despair, soldiers of all ranks surged toward the distant red flash without instruction and without order. The heat had begun to mount as the morning sun rose steadily in the sky. Instead of digging shelters to hide from the harsh and unforgiving daylight, many exhausted themselves in a futile and dangerous sprint that ended in the collapse of many on the barren sand dunes.
Iroh and his friends trudged on, their faces blank and feverish with heat exhaustion, their movements stiff and jerky. Barely aware of their surroundings, they saw, but did not recognize the significance of, a dust trail that bloomed rapidly on the horizon.
Soon a tank train appeared, slowing to a stop in front of the struggling column, and was instantly surrounded by the dying soldiers. The large side hatch slid open to reveal Chieng and her technicians who tried in vain to dismount in the face of the massed human misery pressing upon them. Those who could speak without pain cried for water and help.
"Stand back! Give us room!" Chieng ordered, her sharp voice piercing the cries of anguish and need.
The engineer dropped to the ground, followed quickly by some of her bolder crewman, who immediately began to unload small pallets of water bottles. Others began to open the panels on the tank wagon cars to begin dispensing water from the bulk containers.
"Get the wounded and those who can't walk into the engine!" she commanded, her eyes searching the desperate mass of people.
Within a few moments she found the face she sought. She pushed her way through the crowd to Iroh and her friends. He was gaunt, his once rich sideburns hanging loosely from his cheeks, and his lips had obviously been bleeding.
"See," the Crown Prince croaked, grinning, despite his fever and nausea, "not good bye."
The world went dim as heat and dehydration finally dragged the young general into oblivion.
Iroh woke in darkness save for a single lamp behind him and to his right. He lay on a bed, under a surprisingly soft cover. His lips were still cracked, but he had clearly been given water while he was unconscious. He pushed back the covers slightly to look at his arms. The burns and sores were covered by a clear ointment that felt cool in the exposed air.
Next to him was a small table where a glass of water waited patiently. He gently propped himself up in bed and took the glass. He winced as a he took a sip of the wonderful liquid. His lips still protested, but after acclimating to the sting he drained the glass completely.
He felt lightheaded, but not nauseous. Without any clear plan of action, Iroh removed the covers and swung his legs out of bed. His uniform was gone and he wore only a simple maroon tunic.
He looked to his right and saw the light source, a lamp on a reading table with a comfortable seat next to it. A book lay open on the table, patiently awaiting its reader. On the other side of the room stood a dressing table made of rosewood with a large mirror held in place by a pair of beautifully carved flames. On the wall opposite the bed hung a framed blueprint of a Fire Nation battleship. Above the print two portraits were hung, but their subjects could not be seen in the shadows.
Iroh stood up swiftly and promptly lost his balance. Unprepared for the weakness in his legs, he tried to grab the bed post, but missed. He hit the floor with a clatter and a curse.
Moments later two Fire Nation medics appeared and gently helped the general to his feet. They led him over to the chair by the reading table and lowered him into it. After a few shouts the doctor was summoned. She promptly began examining his injuries.
"What is the situation, doctor?" Iroh demanded in a voice he intended to make stern, but came out instead distressingly weak, "I'm fine, I don't need –"
"You'll do as I instruct," the middle aged woman ordered, cutting him off abruptly, "and I will be the judge of whether you are fine or not, General. Try to keep in mind that you're no good to anyone dead."
He stopped short. Hadn't he said something like that to somebody recently? He couldn't remember. He was confused. Maybe she was right.
She gave some curt instructions to the medics who departed the room immediately.
The doctor dragged the small chair over from the dressing table and sat down in front of him to continue her examination in earnest. She hummed a soothing tune as she worked. Iroh recognized it as a lullaby his own mother had sung to him when he was little.
"Your wounds are healing," she finally said with some satisfaction, "Like many others, though, you need to rest for a few days and avoid the sunlight. No firebending either."
"We can't stay here," Iroh said finally, his head buzzing.
"Drink this," she replied, handing him a glass of bubbling water.
"What is it?"
"Mineral water, it will help keep your stomach settled. Now stop asking questions and drink, please."
Iroh complied.
One of the medics entered and offered the doctor a leather bag. She accepted it and the young man promptly retreated the way he came. She began rummaging in the bag and quickly produced rolls of bandages, various jars and a few instruments.
Iroh observed her work as he drank and found comfort in her fussing, professional as it was. The doctor looked familiar, but he couldn't place her. He squinted at her, his brow furrowing in thought, but she did not react.
"That's better, thank you, Doctor," Iroh admitted when done with the mineral water.
"See? Listen to me and all your problems will be solved," she said with a smile.
"I wish that were so, I seem to be rather good at acquiring them recently," he replied ruefully.
"Get used to it, General," she said absently as she began to apply another coat of the clear ointment to his blisters, "you will find, if you haven't already, that power attracts problems."
"Wonderful," he observed with some bitterness, "any other sage advice?"
"Get good at solving problems," she answered seriously, shrugging her shoulders, "Or at least dodging them."
"That was supposed to be a rhetorical question."
She laughed wryly, "That's the real answer though."
"I'll go with that," Iroh replied, taking a liking to the physician, "and what is your name, doctor?"
"Kanjana."
"Okay, Kanjana, where am I?"
"On board the Corona."
"How did I get here?"
"You really don't remember?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice, "You didn't drink any cactus juice did you?"
"No! I'm not crazy, or at least that crazy."
"Okay, what do you remember?"
"I remember… walking in the desert, then some awful dream about smothering… and then I'm here."
"You were farther gone than we thought then," she concluded grimly, "You and many others hadn't had water in a couple days at least. We saw your flare and came on Corona with all the water we could carry. Chieng found you. When you saw her you apparently passed out on the spot."
"What!?" Iroh exclaimed in embarrassment.
"Well, I wasn't there, General," the doctor replied, amused at his reaction, "but apparently you'd have had a concussion to boot if she hadn't caught you on the way down."
Iroh buried his face in his hands, then splayed his fingers to spy the doctor.
"Was anyone else there?" he asked anxiously.
"Oh," she replied innocently, clearly enjoying the younger man's discomfort, "why, I believe she did mention that the Qu'ai Tau and the daimyo were there too."
Iroh groaned. He'd never live this down. Briefly he wondered whether it would have been better to perish before thrusting such unworthy thoughts aside.
He drew a deep breath before continuing.
"The army?"
Her expression hardened.
"Over thirty two hundred dead as of sundown, including Captain Fujiyama of the Inferno and Colonel Jian of Fourth Infantry," she reported.
"Dear Agni."
"Could have been much worse, your Highness," she observed quietly, "and that should be about it as far as casualties go. Everyone who was going to die has gone ahead and done it. The rest we can save."
She was right. Iroh hated to admit that it was a numbers game, but the idea that they would cross the desert with no casualties had never even been entertained. Three thousand lives or more had been lost, but if the sacrifice meant they arrived at Mequon before Nifong, then he knew it will have been worth it. The young general closed his eyes and shivered in spite of himself.
"How ugly and calculating have I become?" he thought, terror suddenly heightening his fragile senses, "What kind of monster will I be when I am Fire Lord?"
Steeling himself to continue, he looked at the doctor once more.
"How did she do it?"
"Do what?"
"The water."
Kanjana smiled, "I'll let her explain that to you herself, but for now, you are going back to sleep."
"No, please Kanjana, I have to –" he protested, struggling to stand.
"You have to do as I say," the doctor replied firmly, helping him back over to the bed, "and I'm saying you need to go back to sleep. The army is recovering, the daimyo has everything in order, so let him do his job."
"Nikon is in command?"
"Yes," she replied, pushing him gently back under the covers, "and doing just fine. He and the Qu'ai Tau were in better shape than you. Now, General, many others need my help today."
She spoke to someone outside the room and another glass of water appeared on the little table next to the bed.
"Drink this when you wake."
He was asleep before she left the room.
When he awoke the glass beside him was empty and the buzzing in his head was gone. Remembering his mistake earlier, he held on to the bed post tightly as he stood up. This time he found his legs supported his weight.
He walked over to the only door and exited to find himself in the ready room where he had spoken to Chieng weeks ago.
A medic jumped up from the guest chair where he had been seated to salute.
"At ease, soldier," he said with a smile, returning the salute.
He was pleased that his voice sounded normal.
"Can you help me find my uniform? I seem to have… misplaced it."
Once properly dressed, Iroh stepped onto the flight deck. The station managers and boiler operators stood up, saluted and returned to their duties. Everything looked normal. The main hatch was open and he could see sunlight outside. It was sunset judging by the angle of the light.
He stepped out. The heat was oppressive, but curiosity drove him forward.
In front of him a huge, shallow body of water stretched into the distance. Corona was parked a few feet from its edge and its shoreline was lined with salt formations. On either side of the lake rock walls sloped gently upwards, giving the impression of residing in a large bowl shaped valley. The sun was setting over the water.
"Hey! There's the damsel in distress!" came a familiar voice.
Iroh turned to see his daimyo, a huge grin plastered across his face, flanked by two adjutants, one of which was the elder of the two infamous "map buddies." His lips were still chapped from the desert odyssey, but he was otherwise recovered.
"Are you asking for an agni kai, my friend?" Iroh threatened.
"No way!" his friend responded innocently, "We were all just so very glad that Chieng was there to catch you when you swooned over her dashing rescue!"
The "map buddy" failed to suppress a smile.
"If the doctor hadn't forbidden me from firebending you'd both be ash piles by now," Iroh said sourly.
"Oh, so you've met our lovely engineer's mother already, have you? My, my, things are progressing quickly!"
"Her what?" Iroh asked blankly.
"Oh, please, daimyo Orlando," the elder "map buddy" finally broke in, though he was still smiling, "have mercy on his Highness."
"Not a chance," Nikon retorted, the twinkle still in his eye, "this is way too good to pass up, my friend."
"Her what?" Iroh repeated as if he hadn't heard the comment.
"That's Doctor Shiung who treated you," the adjutant supplied, "She is the chief of the medical section for the technical bureau, and, as the daimyo just noted, Commander Shiung's mother, wife of Lord Liu Shiung."
"Doesn't anyone tell me anything around here!" Iroh roared in frustration as Nikon finally broke down in laughter.
"Of course not," came another familiar voice behind him, "You're the commanding officer, so of course you're the last one to know anything."
Iroh whirled to see Gan approaching, a grin on his face, clipboard and stylus in hand.
"You look much better, your Highness," Gan continued, "glad to see you up and about."
"Me too," Iroh replied, "and I'm glad at least someone is pleased about it," he added, shooting the daimyo an accusatory look.
"Oh, I'm very pleased about it, your Highness!" Nikon jested without a trace of shame.
"What's the situation?" Iroh asked, deliberately switching the subject.
"We have plenty of water now," Gan replied, clearly satisfied, "More than enough to get us to the southern escarpment."
"When can we move?"
"Tomorrow night, at least that's what Chieng's mother and the rest of the medical staff are recommending," Nikon replied, "We've been here for four days recuperating from the march."
"How did she solve the water problem?"
"We'll show you."
Nikon led them back up the embankment and into the causeway in front of the Corona. The sun had set while they spoke and twilight rapidly descended. The army lay bivouacked around them, most in holes dug in the hardpan, some in tents. To their left however, rose two huge industrial looking platforms that could only have been fashioned from the remains of two tank trains.
Four enormous vessels, two on each platform, stood supported by metal beams that seemed to grow out of the desert floor. In front of each platform lay huge piles of off white powder. At the base of each vessel groups of firebenders practiced their art in silent unison, pouring out gouts of flame to keep intense heat on the bottoms of the tanks.
As they approached the first of these vessels they could see Chieng and one of her boiler chiefs observing the activity.
She turned as the footsteps grew loud behind her.
"Finally decided to get back to work, your Highness?" she said deadpan, crossing her arms in front of her.
"Well, he had a hard time getting out of your bed, Chieng," Nikon quipped before he could stop himself, "He said he really liked the smell, like little flowering bushes or something," then barreling ahead in a tone of mock innocence, "But, I get the impression he hit it off with your mom, isn't that great?"
Gan nearly spit up with laughter. The boiler chief, after a mighty struggle, successfully contained his reaction. For the first few seconds Iroh did not understand the remark. Then he remembered that he emerged from the bedroom he had recovered in directly into Chieng's ready room. The moment he realized the truth he wanted to die, his ears and cheeks turning bright red. There was simply no recovery from such a remark. Against his will, he looked over at the engineer.
Chieng shook her head slowly in resignation, her golden eyes fixed on the daimyo.
"You think you're funny, Nikon, but most of the time you're still just an immature idiot," she retorted without a trace of embarrassment, "Sometimes I can't believe you survived either Myojin or the Ping Tou."
Iroh exhaled in relief. Chieng would handle the situation.
"Oh, come on, Chieng, we all know you hate fun," Nikon replied earnestly once he regained control of himself, "but this… this… this is special! It's too… too good!"
"I do not hate fun," she huffed a trifle sullenly, "I just don't consider getting drunk and banging hookers "fun"."
"Ahhhh, don't try to change the subject, O mighty dreadnought commander," Nikon chided, waggling a finger in her general direction and clearly relishing the opportunity to put his newest friend on the spot, "Besides, I'd like to know just what you do consider fun… I bet it bears a striking resemblance to, you know… work."
Chieng made a noise of disgust.
"This conversation is pointless."
"Aww, can't you just laugh a little?" Nikon asked earnestly, "You don't see any humor here at all?"
"No."
"You know, on second thought," Iroh finally managed, remembering the engineer's barb on the Sulaco, "he probably is the right man to lead the frontal assault on Ba-Sing-Se."
"Don't get me excited."
"Now," he continued, addressing the daimyo, "if you've had enough fun at my expense…"
"Of course it's at your expense, Iroh," Nikon quipped, his eyes bulging suggestively, "I'm a poor man, and if it's not at your expense I can't afford it!"
Iroh continued, ignoring his friend's unwelcome interjections, "…could someone please explain to me how we're getting all this wonderful fresh water?"
"Of course, General," Chieng responded, equally pleased to change the subject, "the solution, as usual, is simple, but we had to sacrifice both the Phoenix and Sozin's Comet to make it work."
The Crown Prince grimaced, "That hurts."
"Yes," Chieng agreed, adopting a similar pained expression, "it does."
Iroh reflected that perhaps for her the loss was personal.
"So, how does it all work?"
The engineer brightened perceptibly.
"We pump the salt water in using the hand pumps down there – nobody wants that job – to fill up the boilers. Each of the boilers is open at the top, though you can't see it, because they're enclosed by those bell-like shields you see up there."
"The boilers are from the drive engines of the Phoenix and the Comet, right?"
"Yes, they were the only vessels we had large enough to make this work."
Iroh observed the corrosion and rust spots already breaking out on the surfaces of the nearest vessel.
"What's going on there?" he said, pointing to the damage.
"Heat and salt water eat metal for breakfast, your Highness. Nothing is more destructive, even to steel."
"Right, so there is no way to salvage the tank trains at all?"
"No, they're finished," she reported emphatically with a shake of her head, "Anyway, we boil each batch, driving off the water, but leaving the salt. We condense the salt free water on the inside of the bell and collect it in the catch basins underneath. From there we pump it over to the tank wagons for storage."
"How do you get rid of the salt? Doesn't each batch gum up the bottoms of the vessels?"
Chieng nodded approvingly, pleased at Iroh's ability to reason, "That was one of the two main problems we ran into when we tested this approach."
"So what do you do?"
"Solving this one turned out to be easy. Instead of driving off all the water, we just dump it out when we get down to about twenty or thirty percent of the volume. All the salt is still suspended in the water at that point."
"Where do you dump it?"
"Right here, I'll show you."
She turned and yelled something up to the second level of the platform. A boiler operator emerged from underneath the bell and responded with a "thumbs up" gesture.
"Yeh, this batch is done. Back up," she ordered.
The men backed off while Chieng put on a pair of huge leather gloves and opened a large valve at the base of the nearest vessel. The firebenders working the boiler stopped applying flame and stood down. Boiling water poured from the vessel onto the hardpan in a continuous stream. The engineer backed away to avoid getting scalded.
"When it's done emptying, we'll fill it up and start again. When the salt pile here gets too high we shovel it all over to the big mounds over there," she said, pointing to the burgeoning salt hills close by, "another unpopular job."
Iroh, clearly impressed, asked, "And the other problem?"
"That was the harder issue, and I couldn't solve it until we got here. You have to condense the water fast or it'll just disappear into the bone dry air. My team and I came up with the bell design back at camp, but we figured out fast that we had to cool the condensing surface somehow or the bell would just heat up to the boiling point of water and stop condensing."
"Don't worry if your eyes start to glaze over, your Highness," Nikon broke in, still grinning, "The rest of us stopped listening way before this. She's a lot more fun when she's shooting things."
"His eyes are not glazing over, jerk," she snapped, annoyed at the interruption, "Unlike you, he is interested and capable of understanding."
"How was the problem solved?" Iroh pressed.
"We welded plates of the trains' exterior armor over the bell to create a water tight metal bladder," she explained, pointing up to the top of the vessel, "and then we pump water from the lake into the bladder continuously to take the heat out and condense the vapor back to liquid. The lake water is very warm, of course, but it's still way below the boiling point of water so it still cools effectively. It took us three days just to do all the welding and it's a pain in the ass to operate, but it works."
She ended her explanation still looking up at the platform. Iroh absorbed her reply for a moment before he stepped forward and hugged her fiercely. Caught as unprepared as she had been at Nomura, she froze for a moment before returning the embrace. The others observed in silence, for everyone shared the feelings of gratitude for their redemption.
Iroh took one step back, still holding her by the arms so he could look into her eyes.
"I am proud of you, Chieng," he said, searching her face, "So proud. Can you ever again doubt our faith in you?"
She blinked, unsure of her response.
"We will not waste the chance you have given us, I promise," the young general vowed.
"I… I know," she replied wistfully.
"How did you chance upon the idea, I wonder?"
"Well… you gave it to me."
"I did?"
"Yes, when you made the tea boil, remember?"
Of course he remembered, for he had often thought of his parting with the engineer during his long walk across the wasteland. Embarrassed, Iroh nodded once in affirmation, released her hands and stepped backwards. The others looked away, as if they were embarrassed to be present at a private exchange.
Gan whistled, breaking the short silence, as he inspected the massive salt piles.
"You know this process is worth millions, right, Chieng?"
"Yes," she replied, reluctantly shifting her gaze.
"Really?" Nikon asked, suddenly interested.
"Sure, salt is expensive," Gan confirmed, "or has been historically anyway – up until now its come out of mines. But now," he said gesturing to the two platforms, "anyone who can firebend and lives by the ocean can make an inexhaustible supply for only the cost of replacing your pot every once in a while."
"Is that bad?"
"Well," Gan chortled, "It is if you're the Fujimoro clan, they've had a near monopoly back home for more than a century."
"Who cares?" Chieng asked with a dismissive wave of her hand, "The Fujimoros are assholes anyway."
"Oh?" Nikon prompted, he had of course heard of the clan, but as a commoner had no direct experience of their disposition.
Iroh nodded in grim agreement. They were allies of his stepmother's family and were well known for their cruelty and petty place seeking.
"Too bad we can't pack up this mountain and ship it back home before the secret gets out," Gan added regretfully, "we could pay for the whole campaign with this lot."
"No room, my friend," Iroh rejoined, "and besides, though it will pain you to hear it, we're not here to make money. We are here to destroy the enemy."
"A point that is apparently lost on them, General," Chieng observed icily, "since they are too busy cracking stupid jokes, indulging in adolescent sexual innuendo and fantasizing over visions of obscene profits to remember the Fire Lord's orders."
"Yes, Chieng, we love you too," Nikon responded with a tolerant grin, clearly meaning his words this time, "but the reminder of our purpose is not inappropriate I suppose," he conceded.
Turning to Iroh he continued, his expression becoming serious, "We will be ready to move tomorrow night, General. The other thing you should know is the maps were wrong again."
"How bad?" Iroh groaned.
"This time the error is in our favor," he reported with satisfaction, "the distance to the lakes is twenty leagues shorter than the charts indicated. If that holds up across the length of the desert, then we'll have done much better than we thought."
"We'll need to," Iroh declared grimly, "Nifong won't waste any time."
"No, he won't," Gan agreed, "so remember to pray for rain, my friends, and not for us."
"I will be happy to," the young general replied with a quick exhalation of breath, "but first I think I could do with a nice cup of ginseng tea."
