Full Force and Effect

8

The office of the Supreme Leader of North Korea is the Ryongsong Residence, also called Residence No. 55. It is located on a small lake in the northern suburbs of Pyongyang, and it serves as one of ten private residences for the nation’s ruler.

The compound is several miles square and surrounded with fencing and gates; the living facility is hardened for conventional and nuclear attack, and two brigades of elite troops reside on the property with the sole mission of protecting the Supreme Leader both from foreign armies and domestic insurrection.

A black limousine arrived at the compound’s outer perimeter checkpoint at ten a.m.; armed guards checked the driver and the occupant in the back, a small, thin fifty-four-year-old bald man in a gray suit. Soon the limo drove north through the hills of Ryongsong, stopped at more checkpoints along the way, until finally the vehicle pulled up to the entrance of Residence No. 55 itself. The bald man climbed out and was led with his small entourage into the building, then he was brought into an ornate sitting area by three female assistants of the Dae Wonsu, and he sat down on a straight-back chair.

Tea was placed in front of him, and a second cup was placed on the empty sofa on the other side of the table and left empty.

He sat nervously in the silence, concentrating with all his might on giving off an air of calm.

The man’s name was Hwang Min-ho; he was the new director of the Korea Natural Resources Trading Corporation, the nation’s state-owned mining concern. In his position for less than a week, he was here to meet Choi Ji-hoon; this would be his first face-to-face with the leader of his country, and the current occupant of the center of the personality cult to which Hwang had belonged every second of his life.

Both of Hwang’s parents had been on the personal staff of a colonel who served as a deputy of the Workers’ Party of Korea, his father a driver and his mother a nanny for the children, and they were both typically fervent believers of the propaganda upon which the entire society was based. Hwang was raised to revere not the party or the government but the leader of his nation, a benevolent god who created all and bestowed all his blessings upon his people. Choi Ji-hoon’s grandfather, then his father, and now Ji-hoon himself, they had all been the epicenter of Hwang’s universe.

Hwang never questioned the things he knew to be truth: His leader’s perfection and omniscience were established facts as sure as the rising and the setting of the sun. That said, Hwang was worried about his new promotion.

Hwang saw what happened to his boss. He’d done his difficult job to the absolute best of his ability; the Dae Wonsu had demanded the impossible, and when the impossible was not delivered, Hwang’s boss was taken from his home. The rumor at the state-run mining company was he’d been sent to Kyo-hwa-so No. 9, the notorious reeducation camp on the east coast of the country. The urbane sixty-year-old former director of mining was, if the rumors were true, now working on his hands and knees in a coal mine and subsisting on a cup of barley soup a day.

Hwang himself had been ordered to remove every single mention of the former director from Korea Natural Resources Trading Corporation literature. To erase the very existence of the man. He did as he was told unquestioningly, and he did not even doubt the Dae Wonsu’s decision internally (as a boy, his mother had told him the leader of the nation could read his mind so to always project love and gratitude in his thoughts), but Hwang, though brainwashed, still was a sentient being, so when he was ordered to fill the former director’s position, he could not help but recognize this great honor came with great danger.

Hwang thought of the danger now as he waited in the luxurious sitting room at Residence No. 55, especially when two armed men, both dressed in the olive-green uniforms of the Chosun Inmingun, the Korean People’s Army, stepped into the room. They were armed with AK-47 rifles that hung over their shoulders, and they took up positions near the doorway. Four more men entered and stood behind the sofa in front of him. Hwang knew these men were members of Section Five of the Party Central Committee Guidance Department, and they were the Dae Wonsu’s personal bodyguards. Still two more men, both wearing Mao suits, entered. These appeared to be personal secretaries of some form or another.

Soon Choi would enter, and Hwang knew the reason for the meeting. Choi would tell him his decision regarding foreign partnerships at the rare earth mineral mine at Chongju. Since the Chinese had been thrown off the project weeks before, there had been discussions to bring them back, if not as coequal partners in the project, at least as foreign contract employees. Hwang’s staff had sent over all the relevant facts and figures about what was required at Chongju, and the information obviated the fact that the mining operation did not have a chance for success without outside help. He fully expected the Supreme Leader to come to the same conclusion.

A female secretary in the uniform of a Chosun Inmingun major entered with a transcription machine. She set up her operation on the chair next to the sofa opposite Hwang. When her machine was ready she bowed to Hwang, and he bowed to her.

Everyone greeted one another as dongmu. Comrade.

Everyone stood or sat silently and waited like this for more than thirty minutes. Hwang was ready to wait even longer, but when a beautiful female attendant entered through a side door and poured steaming tea into the cup across from him, he knew the Dae Wonsu was on his way.

No one would dare serve the leader of the nation tea that had grown cold.

Seconds later Choi Ji-hoon entered through the massive double doors into the residence, flanked by four older men in military uniforms. Hwang had seen his nation’s leader numerous times before; as an elite of North Korea, Hwang often found himself at functions where the Supreme Leader appeared. As always, Hwang was taken by the man’s young face and the wide cut of his impeccable black Mao suit.

As Hwang leapt to his feet, his placid face morphed into one of unbridled joy. He bowed over and over as Choi approached, but he did not speak. This was the way to greet the Dae Wonsu, and Hwang was damn well not going to mess it up.

The military men took positions against the wall; in their hands were notebooks and pens, and they smiled at Hwang, who bowed in their direction. He was careful to form his bows to appear gracious and subservient, but not as deep as those reserved for the Dae Wonsu.

Choi smiled back and sat down across from Hwang. He reached forward and took his tea and sipped it silently for a moment. He looked around the room with bright but furtive eyes, as if making sure everyone in his entourage was in place. After a few moments he looked to Hwang.

“Dongmu Hwang, someone said your father drove for Colonel Ahn.”

Hwang’s heart leapt and his eyes fought back tears of joy. Both of his parents were still living, and he knew telling them the Dae Wonsu knew something of his father’s life would bring them outrageous happiness. He bowed from his chair and struggled to keep his tone measured. “Yes, Dae Wonsu, you are correct. You bring great honor to my family by speaking of him.”

But Choi had already moved on. “The Chinese will not be returning to Chongju. We will continue on without them.”

Hwang knew every relevant fact and figure on the subject. North Korea was abundant in many valuable natural resources, but due to acute shortages of electricity, it would be impossible to exploit the mine without help.

But if not the Chinese, then who?

Brazil had some joint mining ventures here in the North, but they didn’t have the rare earth experience China did. Hwang knew Chongju would never have been discovered without China, and the exploitation of the find wouldn’t happen in his lifetime without outside help.

Hwang did not say anything upon hearing his leader’s decision. Choi cocked his head, as if noticing the delay in the response. If he took it as any sign of disrespect, Hwang knew, he would be executed. Dissent was punishable by death, and dissent was highly subjective in the DPRK, to say the least.

“You disagree with my decision?” Choi asked.

Hwang recovered quickly. He bowed. “No, Dae Wonsu. Of course, I very much agree. I am only thinking of the difficulty with the mine at Chongju. We have been partnering with the Chinese at most all of our mineral extraction sites, but at Chongju we rely on them.”

“That reliance was a mistake by your predecessor. I told him it went against Juche. He has been punished for allowing China to outshine us technologically.” Juche was the North Korean philosophy of self-reliance. This and the worship of the Chois were the quasi-official religions in the nation.

Hwang said, “Yes. Yes, of course, I agree.”

“Good.”

“But…”

“But?”

“We can extract the ore. Obviously our nation has the best mining capability in the world.” Hwang wouldn’t have gotten anywhere in his career without calculated exaggeration, but this was an outright lie. “But the actual processing of the rare earth minerals has always been done in China.”

“What do you mean, ‘processing’?”

Hwang was confused by the question. It had all been in his report. He said, “The ore is mined at Chongju, then delivered by truck to China. The three minerals containing rare earths — bastnäsite, monazite, and xenotime — must be identified and put through a grinding process, and then different chemicals are applied to the powder so that the rare earth oxides will separate from the other minerals. This is a highly technical process that requires geologists, chemists, computers and computer experts, and others.”

Choi said nothing.

Hwang asked, “Will we continue to ship our ore north to have it purified?”

“Of course not. We will do all this here. Not only do we have the largest reserves of minerals on the planet, we have the best scientists and the best technology with which to exploit these minerals.”

Hwang forced himself to nod. Not only did it seem as if Choi was ordering Hwang to create an industry where none had existed before, but he was also demanding he adopt a process no one in North Korea had even seen firsthand.

Choi looked up at the military men around him. Hwang did not know why, but he did not like the silence. To break it he said, “We will develop the processing capability.” He added, “We will lead the world.”

Choi smiled now, and Hwang thought the meeting was about to end. Instead, Choi said, “Very well. I will give you my guidance to ensure everything goes smoothly. Now, you might wonder how long you have. This mine will generate great riches for our nation, and we need these riches to ensure our national security. Having said this, I do not want to rush things, because I know this will require some work on your part.” He looked up as if thinking, and said, “I demand you to begin profitable mining at Chongju within…”

It looked to Hwang as if he was going to pick a time frame out of the air, though he didn’t seem to be even remotely aware of the complexity of the endeavor, or even what rare earth mining and processing entailed. Hwang knew that other nations had taken decades to produce their rare earth mineral industries, but he doubted Choi would give him that long. He hoped to, at least, hear him say ten to fifteen years.

Instead, Choi said, “Within eighteen months.”

The bald man’s heart sank, but he managed to keep his visage the same other than a slight trembling of his lower lip. The task before him was impossible, but he knew there would be no discussion in the matter. The Dae Wonsu had spoken.

Hwang loved the Dae Wonsu. Both the state and his parents had successfully brainwashed him into doing so, and he did not question his devotion to Choi. But even so, he knew Choi’s words to be madness.

After only the slightest hesitation, Hwang Min-ho said, “Yes. As the new director of Korea Natural Resources Trading Corporation, I promise you we will meet with great success in the endeavor.” He added, “And we would be so honored for your continued advice.”

Choi nodded with a smile that made him look genuinely pleased with the talk, and then he stood.

Hwang stood quickly himself, and began a routine of beaming grins and bows, a show of utter subservience that was only enhanced by the fact he fully expected that the man in front of him would order him sent to a labor camp in exactly eighteen months.