The Dragon and the Needle (21 page)

‘There’s no need to worry about that, we can fly through mud with the equipment we’ve got.’

But just when Mike felt a little more at ease after the Colonel’s confident predictions, a bad thing happened. The two on the screen had taken another corner, but the next camera had not picked them up.

The operator was speaking rapidly in French. The interpreter could not keep up with the man. Mike was saying to himself, ‘Don’t panic’, but his mind was in a whirl.

The next room Chen and Eleanor entered was already occupied. The walls of the room were lined with books. She recognised the man sitting behind his desk; a fellow student from the Beijing days, another person she had admired. Chen introduced the man, though he added, ‘Of course, you know each other already.’

The three sat down. Eleanor wondered with an anxiety, a fear that she was determined to hide, what this meeting would lead to. She seemed to remember that the man sitting in front of her had gone on to qualify in research of some kind. Was it immunology, cell biology? She could not quite work out which discipline, but he was soon confirming her thoughts. He, too, spoke in English: word-perfect English.

‘Dr Johnson,’ he said, ‘I’m the Vice-Principal of a research centre in Nanking. I’ve come here to give you an idea of some of our work, which you may not know about. I’ve heard so much about your success in New York and now in London.’ He hesitated a moment then said, ‘You may remember I went into research?’

‘Yes, I remember.’

‘Then you may also recall that immunology was my subject of choice. From that, China benefited. For example, we can now cure a genetic disease by placing a healthy gene into bone marrow cells.’ He went on to describe briefly progress in cell biology and other disciplines. ‘We are as advanced as the West, but using our own medicine to great advantage as well. And of course the immune system has to respond to new evolutionary changes. We are advanced in that area too; but perhaps the most fascinating for you is the progress we have made in finding many new acupuncture points.’ He sat back, content, waiting for a reaction from Eleanor.

She said, ‘That’s fascinating. Congratulations to you as well. When will we in the West benefit from such progress?’

He smiled at her, saying, ‘Who knows when?’ and he looked at Chen.

Chen smiled then turned to Eleanor and spoke slowly. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘there is much for you to think about already. Perhaps you could consider coming back to China?’

She carefully folded her arms, feeling the microchip. Keeping her arms folded, she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Even if I wanted to, my commitments in London are total. It would be absolutely out of the question.’

She caught the quick look the two men gave to each other. She was immediately aware that she had said the wrong thing. She had spoken from her heart and not her head. Here were the two men who might give her not only the key, but more importantly, the master key she desperately wanted. To have come this far, with all the drama that it had entailed, to be thrown into a world of missions, espionage and bodyguards, and then throw it away, was madness. As she thought of bodyguards, she remembered Mont Louis. Mike would be there. Courage returned. But how to gain Chen’s confidence in her? If indeed he had any? We can become trapped by the truth, she thought, by the categorical imperative.

She felt a sense of relief as Chen said, ‘You haven’t changed. Of course you must put your patients first.’

For the first time since her shock of meeting him, she experienced a kind of rapport with Chen. It was the rapport of mutual concern and care for the sick. She thought of the time just before … just before he left her. He had returned from a visit to China, full of confidence in the future of Oriental medicine. He had told her of wonderful new discoveries, but he had not told her what those discoveries were.

She heard the immunologist saying, ‘How right Chen is. And China, in the last decade having largely solved its high birth rate problem, has turned towards solving the great problems of ill health that still baffle the world.’

The door had been opened for her. She grasped the opportunity. She could ask it without fear of creating suspicion. Yet … then, yes, ask it she must.

‘Has China any idea what is causing the mystery death problem throughout the world? What they call ENDS?’

If it was a relief to ask the question, the reaction to it was a surprise. The immunologist rose slowly to his feet, bowed slightly to Chen, then his bright and clear dark eyes focussed on Eleanor. They gazed with deep intensity into hers. He said, ‘Why did you ask that question?’

She said with genuine astonishment, ‘Surely it’s obvious? It’s one of the great problems that’s baffling the world!’

He replied, ‘Not many Chinese are affected by it, are they?’

If it was painful to hear the selfishness behind the words, it was a pain she could bear. ‘I don’t know about that,’ she said, ‘but they are deaths! People are dying from causes unknown. Of all ages. And so far…’

The immunologist had stopped listening to her, he had walked away from the desk and was heading for the door. When he reached it, he turned to her and said, ‘You must excuse me, Doctor. I have much to do. Dr Chen will continue. Perhaps he will answer your question.’

She felt less sure of herself, for now she was alone with Chen once more. Chen stood up and started walking around the room. She followed him with her eyes, finding it difficult to stop her hands from trembling.

He ended up in front of her, ordering her in a sharp tone of voice, snapping, ‘Stand up!’

Eleanor did not move.

‘I don’t like you to ask questions!’ Chen said. ‘I’m going to do the asking.’

Eleanor saw him staring at her hands. He must have felt sympathy for her. The next moment he relaxed by changing the tension in his voice, saying gently, ‘Look, please don’t feel I’m trying …’ then he suddenly stopped for a second, grabbed her left hand, and was staring down at it in fury.

‘That’s not the ring I gave you! I know you have a male friend. One you’ve met recently. Did he give you that?’

Eleanor stood up. Her face had paled. Of course, she thought, he would know about Mike; but his words confused her. She had to act it out. She let her feelings surface. She pulled her hand away from his grip, his tight grip, for he had started to pull the ring off her finger.

She shouted, ‘Let go!’ and as he obeyed her, she continued, throwing caution to the wind. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, Chen? Remember, as far as I was concerned, you were dead!’

He closed his eyes for a moment, as though deeply hurt by her words. She gained courage by being suddenly aware that perhaps he still had, somewhere inside his mind, an affection for her.

‘What do I have to do,’ she said, ‘to get an answer about the mystery deaths? Give you a list of the dead?’

‘If you did that,’ he said, without a trace of emotion, ‘I could give you a list of the dying.’ Chen now looked calculating as he stared at her.

She had a thousand questions to ask, but knew that soon
she might have to choose between calling for help or … Thank God she had prevented him taking the ring off her hand, the one and only link she had with the world outside the Centre. He had virtually said that he knew who was going to die.

As she stared back at him, his eyes narrowed and his face grew tight. ‘What I want of you, Eleanor,’ he said, ‘is to come back to China with me – hopefully without force on anyone’s part. I am going to tell you what you want to know. After that, I’m afraid you’ll have no choice.’

She felt the tension again in the pit of her stomach. They both sat down again and he began to speak. As he continued, Eleanor was as much afraid of his voice as she was of what he was saying. She almost knew what he was going to say. But not all of it. He was using words to paint a picture of the past when they had lived together in New York. She remembered their apartment on Riverside Drive, close to Columbia University.

‘That night in our apartment,’ Chen was saying, ‘when the Chinese representative at the United Nations called …’

She remembered. She had opened the door and there was the neat Chinese man from the UN. He had followed her inside, sat down, and within minutes was describing how China would deal with the problems of human rights – by not dealing with them. She remembered wondering why this man seemed to know Chen so well, and why he had come to see them. He had gone on talking, saying that other parts of the world fooled themselves, that their talk about self-reliance and the individual was a lie; their people were controlled by credit cards, mortgages and loans; they were capitalists, and China would never accept that concept. China would cause a profound disruption of the capitalist way of life.

‘Do you remember his words?’ Chen’s voice brought her back to Malinya again. He had stood up and was looking down at her.

She did remember, but also recalled the paradoxes she had witnessed in China, where millions seemed happy to follow
Western ways. She looked at Chen, standing in front of her, no longer her husband, no longer the man she loved and respected. He too was a paradox. Did he really imagine she would follow him?

He was talking about the meridian of the heart, commencing at the armpit, descending along the arm to finish at the end of the little finger. It was located on one of the six points of forbidden treatment. ‘I’m sure you remember,’ he was saying, ‘how vital it is to insert the needles in the correct manner and to withdraw them correctly. And before that, to choose with great care the depths the points should reach.’

She nodded. ‘You mean the three levels of T’ien Pu, Jen Pu and T’u Pu,’ Eleanor said, quickly adding, ‘but never, never under any circumstances, to use the forbidden points!’

Chen looked at her coldly and then said in a quiet but strong voice, ‘But that is exactly what we have been doing.’

She stared at him, certain now that he was deeply involved in this evil thing – and proud of it.

He said triumphantly, ‘You know what I mean. I can see that in your eyes.’

She was filled with loathing for him, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hide her feelings. But she must! ‘But why?’ she said, standing up. Her voice quavered, but she quickly controlled it saying, ‘To what purpose? How can that possibly help China?’

‘I will tell you how. Then perhaps you will understand better. Sit down!’

As she did so, Chen spoke briskly. ‘China still struggles against the imposition of outsiders, barbarians.’ He looked at Eleanor as if he was looking through her. ‘But the barbarians have never succeeded in conquering China and never will! The West will never be allowed to impose its way on China – the way of democracy.’

She suddenly found the courage to interrupt him, ‘What’s wrong with democracy, Chen?’

Chen’s eyes hardened. ‘Democracy is an inflexible dogma that is based on a lie. It uses propaganda and false education to make its people believe it is their own fault if they are poor, and if they work hard they can all become rich. That is a lie, the lie of democracy.’ Chen smiled, a strange, enigmatic Chinese smile. ‘They kill and corrupt to perpetrate and implement that lie, as if to become rich is the greatest achievement of life.’ He paused and then continued, ‘But China has found a way to change the perceptions of the West. That way is Carry Tiger to Mountain, following the truth, the way of the Tao through Oriental medicine, especially acupuncture.’ The smile remained on his face. ‘There is no need to try to force China to change,’ he said. ‘The Chinese will let the rulers rule. If others try to change China, the people will conform to the new level, like that of changing water levels, but China will never allow itself to be forced into any way of life which is in fundamental opposition to the way of the Tao.’ He gave Eleanor a condescending look. ‘The time has come, historically, for China and the Far East to educate the barbarians, to restore balance to the earth. China must follow its destiny.’

‘By killing?’ Eleanor asked.

‘No,’ Chen said slowly. ‘It must begin by confusing the West. People are afraid of dying. And so they have grasped Oriental medicine, because it gives them health, restores their vital energy, cures and prevents disease and so prolongs life. You know that.’

‘Yes,’ Eleanor said, ‘but …’

‘Listen!’ Chen commanded. ‘Many thousands have experienced the positive results of our medicine.’

‘Then why use the Forbidden Points to kill?’ Eleanor asked. ‘I have always believed, as you taught me, that China and Carry Tiger to Mountain would use peaceful means to exert its influence for the good of mankind.’

‘Well, we are not at war, are we?’ he said.

‘No, but you are killing people. Why?’ She had to find out their reasons!

He went on speaking, using the Chinese quality of saying one thing, then the opposite, confusing subtly, with enigmatic statements, making her agree, then disagree. ‘We are only killing a few,’ he said, ‘the rich, the politicians, the people who would like to change China. Carry Tiger to Mountain has demanded Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy. The enemies of China will learn that their way is not the right way, the way of truth. By following China, following the right way, not by force, but perhaps with the help of a little fear’ – he paused and looked at Eleanor darkly – ‘they can help to restore the balance in the world, not with bombs, but through the Tao.’

He stopped speaking. His eyes searched hers. ‘Eleanor,’ he paused, ‘will you come back to China with me? You must forgive me, and understand!’

What could she say? She casually felt for the microchip. Let him talk. He must talk more. She said, ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’

‘What can I say to make up your mind?’

‘Why do you want me? What can I do for China?’

‘You have built a great reputation for yourself in the West. You can use that to help us!’ He looked at her with intensity. ‘To help me.’ He stopped speaking abruptly and then went on, ‘Eleanor, I want you to come back to me. I have been longing for this meeting ever since … ever since I disappeared.’

He lifted his arms towards her as if he expected her to jump up and fall into them. She did not move and he dropped his arms again.