A Mighty Host
Four days after his return from Japan, Ki-jo went into the warehouse at Eundae-ri early in the morning and stood looking over the sacks of fertilizer and pesticide heaped inside.
With this much, the crops ought to do well even on land that's never been fed a load of compost...
The fertilizer and pesticide the Eighth Army had bought for him came in a quantity that outran every expectation. He had put up a warehouse ahead of time against the need to store it, and still there was not enough; he had to raise a second one alongside the first. The scale on which Americans conceived of farming seemed fundamentally different from the Korean one. What they had purchased for him to spread on the fields would last three years and still leave a surplus.
Ki-jo stepped into the newly built warehouse next door as well. There, piled high along with the fertilizer, were sacks of MSG and grass seed. He turned over once more what had passed in Japan, and understood all over again how precious a bond could be. With the Oguchi father and son on his mind—the ones who had helped him—he came out of the warehouse.
Ki-jo was no longer a civilian in the service of the US Army. After the trip to Japan he had been released from that status, for a contractor taking on American military construction could not hold an army-civilian post.
What remained for him now was to take the purchase order Frank had sent and carry it to the government offices. He boarded a train and went up to Seoul. On the way from Seoul Station to the Central Government Building, he drew several long breaths.
The permit has to come through cleanly...
He wanted the matter settled in a single stroke, exactly as Frank had told him to manage it. He had no wish to trouble Frank a second time, grubbing over the same petty business.
Ki-jo climbed the steps of the Central Government Building and went into the second-floor office that handled the licensing of companies. He found the clerk in charge, explained his circumstances, and handed over the purchase order issued by the US Embassy.
The clerk took the embassy's order, looked flustered, and went straight to find his superior. A short while later the superior himself came out and put a question to Ki-jo.
"What is your relationship with Ambassador Briggs?"
He meant Ellis Briggs, the United States ambassador to Korea.
"He is a client of mine."
That was all Ki-jo said, and the officials grew more flustered still. A client—as if anyone failed to know that much. What mattered was how he had managed to land an order from the American embassy in the first place.
Bureaucrats preferred the sort of man who boasted of the backing he had, or who announced in a loud voice just what kind of person he was. Such men were easy to place. Someone like Ki-jo, who gave nothing of himself away, was the most difficult of all. Treat him carelessly, and if some tremendous connection came to light later there would be hell to pay—so the man in charge grew tenser still.
"Please wait here a moment."
He called the officials into the conference room and opened a meeting. His first question was who had revoked the Cheongsan Brick permit.
"The Counter Intelligence Corps."
"What? The CIC?"
At those words the conference room went tight with tension.
"And the American embassy placed an order even so?"
None of them could make sense of it.
"That man must have something. Mightn't he be on close terms with the American ambassador?"
"He must be... Otherwise, how would an unlicensed company ever win an order from the US Embassy? Ha... what a headache..."
Every smoker in the room drew out a cigarette and set it between his lips. After a stretch of brooding, the department head tossed out a question.
"Who's stronger—the CIC, or the American embassy?"
The answer to that was already decided.
"Even so, the American embassy has to be the stronger. Honestly, doesn't His Excellency the President himself find the American ambassador a difficult man?"
"He must, mustn't he...? His Excellency would find the American ambassador harder to handle. Kim Chang-ryong is only a subordinate."
The reckoning was finished. The department head hurried out of the conference room and went to Ki-jo.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting. The permit will be out shortly. Would you care for a cup of tea while you wait?"
Ki-jo drank the tea the official offered, unhurried, then took the permit and left. With that, the re-licensing of the Cheongsan factory was simply resolved.
When he returned to the factory and announced that the permit had been approved again, the employees cheered. Among them it passed naturally from mouth to mouth that there was nothing the boss could not solve. Through the crowd pressing in to congratulate him, Professor Kim Moon-hwan slipped close and bent to whisper in his ear.
"President Lee, spare me a word."
Professor Kim Moon-hwan led him to the laboratory. Scratching at his head, the professor began carefully.
"I'm sorry to put a thing like this to you, but..."
"It's quite all right, Professor. If there's something you wish to say, please say it."
"Well... it's..."
Ki-jo swallowed, his throat dry. It was unlikely, and yet the worry came first—that some circumstance had arisen, and he was about to hear Professor Kim Moon-hwan say he meant to quit. But that was not it.
"It's about Engineer-in-Chief Lee Man-ik..."
"The Engineer-in-Chief?"
"Yes. Now that Paik Sun-yup has been swept aside..."
"Has something gone wrong for him?"
"Mm. The pressure keeps coming down, from what I hear. They're telling him he was mixed up in the Paik Sun-yup scandal too, so he ought to take off the uniform..."
It would be on account of the heavy equipment and the tents he had lent Ki-jo.
"So I told Engineer-in-Chief Lee Man-ik myself. Don't cling so wretchedly to your post—come into Cheongsan! We're doing the American military's construction, aren't we! That's what I said to him. I did..."
Professor Kim Moon-hwan was sorry to have spoken that way without the president's leave, and he appealed to Ki-jo on behalf of Engineer-in-Chief Lee Man-ik, who honored him as a teacher and was now in a pitiful fix.
"Ha ha ha! You did well, Professor. If the Engineer-in-Chief comes into Cheongsan, no one would welcome him more than I!"
"R-right? That's why I threw those words at him! Where would we ever find a man of Lee Man-ik's caliber? Ha ha ha!"
Professor Kim Moon-hwan laughed, bright and unburdened, as if a knot inside him had come clean undone. Ki-jo took the professor's hand.
"Professor. Please tell the Engineer-in-Chief that we'll take his men as well. We need a great many people who can direct the construction."
"Ah! Don't you worry about that! Man-ik was saying as much himself. He said there were plenty of subordinates who meant to take off their uniforms if he took off his. That's why he said he couldn't step down lightly!"
The pool of talent he had needed came rolling in to Ki-jo of its own accord. He was so glad he wanted to break into a little dance on the spot, but he held himself in.
He and Professor Kim Moon-hwan were laughing together in their pleasure when the laboratory door opened and Jang Ma-ryang came in.
"Brother, the vice president of Hyundai Construction has come. He's outside."
"Has he? Chung In-yung?"
They stepped out of the laboratory, and there stood Chung In-yung. What struck Ki-jo's eye more sharply than Chung himself were the men ranged behind him.
"President Lee Ki-jo. These are the men from our Hyundai Motor Works. There were more than eighty to begin with, but a few have already found new work. I've brought only the seventy-six who said they would come here."
He could scarcely believe it. Had Hyundai Motor Works been that large? It hardly mattered. Skilled men were better, the more of them there were. Ki-jo seized Chung In-yung's hand.
"Thank you, Vice President Chung."
"You owe me no thanks. As I said before, by taking over their employment you've set both my mind and my elder brother's at ease."
Ki-jo thanked him, then greeted the mechanics from Hyundai Motor Works one by one, shaking each man's hand. When the greetings were done, he spoke to them.
"I promise you the same wages you were receiving at Hyundai Motor Works."
At that, the mechanics' faces brightened. In truth, following Vice President Chung all the way out to Yeoncheon, they had worried whether a company stuck in a corner of the countryside like this would even pay them on time. But once they crossed the bridge over the Hantan River and saw the Cheongsan brick factory hidden back among the hills, they felt a little easier. The plant was large, and the equipment visible farther in gave them hope that it might be a decent company after all. When Ki-jo then promised them the same pay they had been drawing, they could rest easy for the present.
"The company has only one truck so far. There are two more, both broken down, but the trucks will multiply before long."
As Ki-jo explained, a man who introduced himself as the foreman spoke up.
"President, where are the broken trucks?"
"Behind the factory."
"May we have a look?"
"Of course. Go and see."
Ma-ryang led the mechanics to the blue truck that had become the Cheongsan factory's trademark, and to where the broken trucks sat. The foreman looked all three over carefully, from one end to the other, then came up to Ki-jo.
"The blue truck is a proper US Army truck."
"A proper US Army truck?"
"Yes. We call them GMCs—models built in America. Both of the broken trucks are Japanese-made. Toyota built them. A truck made in America is tougher, and it doesn't break down. The steel in the frame is different from the Japanese kind, right from the start."
Ki-jo shifted his gaze to the blue truck Kim Doo-han had brought him.
So Kim Doo-han brought me the genuine article after all...
While he was taking that in with satisfaction, the foreman went on about the other two damaged trucks.
"One of the broken trucks can be run without any trouble if we weld the frame and reinforce it. The one snapped clean in two can't be used as a truck, but the engine is perfectly sound. Pull the engine and use it for a power source, or keep it for spare parts. Either ought to do."
"Is that so? That's excellent!"
Experts were a different breed, sure enough. Ki-jo wanted these men bound fast to him, before any thought of looking elsewhere could take root. He turned to Chung In-yung and asked, almost lightly,
"Vice President, are these men owed any back wages?"
"Ah, well... that's..."
Chung In-yung looked ashamed. Ki-jo, though, was all the gladder for it. He called Ma-ryang over.
"Go and tell Sung Dae-ik. Have him ask the mechanics what pay they haven't received, and give them exactly the amount they name. As quickly as possible."
"Aye, Brother."
Ma-ryang took the order and ran for the office. Watching the mechanics look the trucks over and run their hands along them, he too could tell at a glance that these were capable men.
They had barely arrived at the Cheongsan factory before they were drawing up estimates for the repairs, and the sight swelled Ki-jo's chest.
A mighty host has come to me...
The hands he needed to run the Cheongsan factory and to carry out the construction at the American bases were in place. All that remained was to set the business turning in earnest.
A few days later, Ki-jo summoned three residents of Eundae-ri who had no gift for farming: Kim Seogwang, who had hauled freight at Deokjeong Station; the hunter Shim Hansu; and Oh Seok-mun, the stonemason who shaped millstones from the basalt of Yeoncheon.
From early that morning the three had been wondering why he had called them. The look on his face was a good one, so it probably was not bad news—and yet this was the first time he had gathered the three of them in one place.
"I have a request I'd like to make of the three of you."
Ki-jo had barely opened his mouth before Kim Seogwang spoke.
"Chief, just say the word. If you're the one asking, what is there we couldn't do? Right, Hansu?"
"Of course, brother. Do as the chief says, and rice cakes turn up even while you're asleep. Heh heh."
Shim Hansu laughed, bright and easy. Oh Seok-mun, though, taciturn and not close with the other two, still wore a face that said he had no idea what any of this was about. So that Seok-mun would not be left ill at ease, Ki-jo went straight to the point.
"I'd like to ask the three of you to give up farming in Eundae-ri. Would that be all right?"
At his words, all three started. They had come to Eundae-ri trusting nothing but his promise—that he would give them broad fields to work and turn over the whole of the first harvest. Not one of them had ever farmed, but farming was something a man could learn from his neighbors, and if they raised a crop this year and brought in the rice, they stood to make a great deal of money. And now he was telling them to give that up.
"Yes! Chief! I'll give it up!"
Kim Seogwang abandoned it cleanly, without a moment's pause.
"Hansu, what about you?"
Scratching his head, Hansu answered.
"If the chief says to give it up, then that's what I should do. Honestly, I don't think farm work suits me. Ha ha."
Seogwang's eyes and Hansu's shifted to Oh Seok-mun. He was still hesitating.
"Apart from farming, is there some other work you mean to entrust to us?"
Seok-mun had come well into middle age, and he had no wish to gamble. This was the season when a man ought to be finding his footing, and the thought of taking up something new weighed on him. To the uneasy man, Ki-jo said,
"Come up to Seoul with me today, and you'll see. You may make your decision there."
Kim Seogwang, Shim Hansu, and Oh Seok-mun looked at one another.