The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [195]
“All of Pyongyang will be in attendance,” the Dear Leader assured her. “If for some reason duty calls your husband on a mission, would you do me the honor, would you join me in my box?”
Sun Moon gazed into the Dear Leader’s eyes. She was almost without comprehension that someone so powerful and generous would assist a citizen as humble as herself. But with the Dear Leader, citizens, remember, everything is possible. Remember that his only desire is to protectively clasp each and every one of you in his everlasting embrace.
“Come,” the Dear Leader said. “There’s more.”
Sun Moon could see that across the studio, a small orchestra was assembled. The two of them walked in that direction, passing through fields of props, all of which were familiar to her—a row of American jeeps and racks of GI uniforms, pulled from dead imperialists during the war. And here was a scale model of Mount Paektu, birthplace of the glorious leader Kim Jong Il, born so close to the sun! Paektusan, may your magisterial peaks ever extend to the heavens!
As they strolled further, the Dear Leader said, “Now it’s time to speak of your next film.”
“I have been practicing my lines,” she told him.
“For Ultimate Sacrifices?” he asked. “Throw that script away. I have changed my mind—a story of replacement husbands isn’t for you. Come, come see your new projects.”
They came to three easels surrounded by musicians in tuxedos. And here in his tuxedo stood Dak-Ho, the state movie producer. Because of his resonant tenor’s voice, he’d performed the voice-overs on all her movies. Dak-Ho removed the linen from the first easel, and here was the lobby card for Sun Moon’s next movie. It depicted a ravishing Sun Moon, barely contained in her uniform, wrapped in the embrace of a naval officer, the two of them shrouded by a halo of torpedoes. But surprise, citizens, the officer she embraces wears a South Korean uniform!
“The Demon Fleet,” Dak-Ho announced, his voice robust and deep.
The orchestra began playing a theme for the movie-to-be that was tense and brooding.
“In a world of danger and intrigue,” Dak-Ho continued, “one woman will discover that a pure heart is the only weapon that can repel the imperialist menace. The sole survivor of an illegal South Korean assault on her submarine, Sun Moon is ‘rescued’ by her sneak-attacker’s gunship. As a captive of the dashing ROK captain, she is pressed to reveal the defenses of the DPRK fleet. Slowly, however, she begins showing her handsome captor how he is actually the imprisoned one—jailed by the manipulations of the American regime. In the stunning climax, he turns his guns toward the real enemy.”
The Dear Leader smiled broadly. “The submarine we’ll use for the opening scenes is already moored in the Taedong,” he said. “And as we speak, there’s an entire naval detachment in the disputed waters searching for the appropriate ROK gunship to capture.”
The Dear Leader snapped his fingers, and the sheet came off the second lobby card.
Soaring violins began a refrain that was strong and inspiring.
“The Floating Wall,” Dak-Ho began, but the Dear Leader cut him off.
“This is a bio-pic about the first female Pubyok,” the Dear Leader said, pointing at the beautiful, determined woman on the movie poster. He indicated the way her badge shone brightly and her eyes were fixed on a better horizon. “In this role, you will get results—cracking cases and proving that a woman can be as strong as any man.”
The Dear Leader turned to her for a reaction.
Sun Moon pointed to the poster. “But her hair,” she said. “It’s so short.”
“Did I mention it’s a true story?” he asked. “A woman really was hired at Division 42 not long ago.”
Sun Moon shook her head. “I cannot act with hair of this length,” she said.
“The character is Pubyok,” the Dear Leader said. “So it must be short. You’ve never been one to shy from authenticity, you practically live your roles.” He reached and touched her hair. “It’s beautiful, but sacrifices must be made.”
The last movie poster remained veiled as Sun Moon’s face saddened. Despite her best efforts, she