Shan looked at Marco in alarm. "The Well of Tears," he gasped. "Where souls are collected by the wind when they become lost."
Jakli's hand shot to her mouth. "They are too old," she cried. "They could lose their way so easily. They could die in the wind."
"They came to the school, looking," Kaju interjected.
"Lokesh?" Jakli asked. "The lama?"
"No. Public Security. Knobs came this morning. They said they were looking for two old Tibetans who had escaped from prison."
Shan stared at Kaju with a clenched jaw, fighting the cold knot of fear that had suddenly gripped his stomach. The paths of the killers had indeed crossed. Bao had been looking for foreign subversives but now was asking about Tibetans. Someone must have seen Gendun and Lokesh, and reported them.
"Mother of God," Marco muttered and began harnessing Sophie.
When Jakli looked at Shan it seemed she was about to cry. "But we have to find the boys."
"Exactly," the big Eluosi said. "Which is why Sophie and I will go for the old Tibetans." He fixed Shan with a grave stare. "If the knobs take them, they won't last twenty-four hours. They don't want those old men for anything. Just want them gone."
* * *
Yoktian seemed in a state of seige. The town square was silent and empty, except for four squads of knobs, one stationed at each corner. Those few inhabitants who had business on the street scurried along, looking down, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The distant whinnying of horses floated through the air. Shan and the others had passed the pens on the way into town. Scores of horses were behind the heavy fences now, stamping the ground restlessly, looking wild-eyed and confused at the Kazakhs and Uighurs who watched them forlornly from a distance, not daring to approach the pens due to the knob guards at the gates.
Shan, Jowa, and Jakli followed Fat Mao along a side street that paralleled the square. With a grim set of his jaw the Uighur gestured toward two black utility vehicles parked near the square. "Another boot squad," he said. "Two new ones came in. One from Kashgar," he said to Shan. "And one just arrived from a base in Tibet." He looked to Jakli and grimaced. "They will start checking businesses soon," he said with an apologetic tone.
She sighed, then extracted a promise from the Uighur to keep looking for the Tibetans and turned toward her factory. She paused after her first step and turned. "Nikki could come looking," she said hurriedly. "Tell him to get back in the mountains. Tell him to just get to the festival on time," she added, then marched away to make hats.
Fat Mao led Shan and Jowa into a small restaurant in an old mud-brick building with a sign in Chinese, English, and the Turkic tongue that said
Closed.
Quickly checking the street for patrols, he led them to the rear of the building, then entered, stepping through the kitchen to the front dining room. A stout woman in a white apron, her hair bound in a red scarf, knelt on a small prayer carpet by a rear table. She glanced at them, grunted something that might have been a greeting, then reached up to flip a switch on the wall behind her. She flipped it twice, with no effect on the lights in the room, then Fat Mao led them through a doorway and down a set of rickety stairs to a musty cellar with a dirt floor. On one wall a set of shelves held blankets and clothing and many types of hats and footwear. Disguises. At a table under a single naked lightbulb a man and a slight woman with her hair bound in two small pigtails sat studying the screen of a portable computer. Shan recognized the man as the sullen, large-boned Kazakh who been on the truck to Glory Camp when Jakli and Shan had met it, who had driven Lokesh and Bajys to Senge Drak. Ox Mao. Fat Mao introduced the woman as Swallow Mao. Ox Mao was bent over something, studying it intently. He threw a paper over it when he saw Shan, but a corner could still be seen. It was one of the wooden tablets.
Half of Xu's detainees had been released, Swallow Mao reported, extending a sheet of paper after the prosecutor had conducted interviews. Shan anxiously studied the list. The waterkeeper was not on it. He watched as they reviewed half a dozen computer discs taken from an envelope in front of the woman, with no change in the list. He realized after a moment that he had seen Swallow Mao before, sitting at a computer screen at Glory Camp.
"You said you follow people sometimes," Shan said to Fat Mao. "What about Bao?"
"The clinic, having his wound treated," Swallow Mao reported with a cold anger. "Then Glory Camp, talking to detainees," she volunteered. "The knobs collected old men for interrogation. Some of them look like Tibetans, from the hills." She looked up and seemed to recognize the pain in Shan's eyes. "Did I say something wrong?"
Shan sighed and shook his head slowly. Bao was looking for a lama. "What about Ko?"
"At the clinic yesterday," Ox Mao offered in a deep voice. "Meeting with the parents of newborns. Explaining the Brigade's new statistical tracking service, about why certain questions must be answered, to allow the pattern of health problems to be identified. He says."
Fat Mao and Shan looked at each other. "Since when?" the Uighur asked. "When did his questions start?"
"Two days ago."
Two days ago. Khitai had been killed three days before.
"What kind of questions?" Fat Mao asked. "What, exactly, about newborns?"
Ox Mao looked from the Uighur to Shan with confusion in his eyes. "I wasn't there," he said slowly. "I got the report from the Kazakh nurse. Ko said the most important starting point was the background of the parents."
"I need to go to the clinic," Shan said. But the Maos ignored him.
"The background of new parents," Fat Mao muttered heavily.
With a chill Shan remembered the struggle over identifying the reincarnation of the Panchen Lama. The government had carefully waited for a baby born to parents who were both members of the Party. Ko's questions could mean nothing. Or they could mean that General Rongqi was indeed involved and was already searching for the new Yakde Lama, the Brigade's tame lama, which they could proclaim as soon as they obtained the Jade Basket.
"Names," Fat Mao said with sudden urgency, and he began explaining how the Maos must obtain a copy of the data that Ko was collecting. Shan listened for several minutes, then told them he would be upstairs, outside, getting fresh air.
He walked slowly, to avoid attention, watching the windows for reflections of anybody following him. It took another quarter hour to locate the door he wanted, then he paused in the shadows of an alley, watching again, before darting across to it— the rear door of the old palace that housed the Ministry.
In a darkened hallway he passed a narrow door that hung open before a closet that smelled of cleaning chemicals, then another, wider door, with a cross-bolt lock. With a deep breath he pushed open the door at the end of the hall and stepped into the lobby. The bald man was there, sitting on his desk, reading a paper. His eyes grew wide at the sight of Shan, and he leapt off his perch with unexpected speed, grabbing Shan's wrist, pushing him back into the shadows of the rear corridor. But he did not hit Shan or call out for help. "Wait," the man said instead in a hushed tone and looked over his shoulder. Shan nodded and the man released his hold, then darted out to the lobby.
Five minutes later Prosecutor Xu appeared, accompanied by the bald man, who opened the bolted door and flicked a light switch. Xu gestured Shan inside. It was a stale, windowless room, with a small metal table and four metal chairs. Its single lightbulb was encased in a wire cage. On a shelf in the back was a tin basin, a flyswatter, a roll of heavy duct tape, and several long slats of wood, the size of rulers. An interrogation room.
At a nod from Xu the bald man shut the door, leaving Shan and the prosecutor inside. The door shook, and Shan realized the man had not locked it but was leaning against it. Xu sat in the chair nearest the door, Shan at the opposite side of the table.
"Public Security computers say Sui is on personal leave," Xu announced tersely. "Family leave."
"Did you ask Bao why he said Sui was transferred?" Shan asked.
Xu shot him a peeved glance in reply. Of course not, he realized from her expression. Because she had not asked Bao for permission to enter his document system. He looked around the room again. Xu was hiding; she didn't want Shan to be seen. Everyone in Yoktian had secrets. Everyone spied on everyone else.
"Bao expanded the file on Lau," Xu said. "Added two more witness statements."
"You mean, it's Bao's investigation now? A simple missing person case?"
"Public Security has the authority if they choose to exercise it. Two days ago he choose to do so, on the grounds that she was a former public official. We transferred our file and he inserted two more witness statements. No case anymore. He closed the file. Finding of death by accident."
"So all the detainees in the investigation can be released now."
Xu ignored him. "Bao contacted his Public Affairs Officer. There will be an expanded story in praise of Lau in the newspaper."
"What witnesses gave statements?"
"Comrade Hu, from the school. He reminded us that he had reported Lau for praising dissidents in her classes. Then he signed a statement. Walking to work the day after the reported accident he saw a woman's body floating down the river."
"Just like that, he suddenly remembered." What had Hu said at the camp? He had a family to think of.
"The other was a forensics expert in Kashgar. Said the wallet with the identity papers they recovered had traces of mineral consistent with the riverbank she reportedly fell down."
"I am endlessly amazed," Shan said with a sigh, "at what the resources of the people's government are capable of when properly motivated." He stared into his hands. "Did you verify how Sui came into possession of Lau's papers?"
"A responsible citizen." It was a familiar code for government files, referring to an anonymous source.
"I don't think so. I think Sui had them himself."
Xu rose and slowly walked behind him. He braced himself but did not look back. She reappeared holding one of the wooden slats and sat again.
"I thought Bao might pursue the other theory," Shan suggested impassively. Xu's eyebrows rose in inquiry. "That Lau and Sui ran away together. Secret lovers, maybe. Or perhaps they both drowned, valiantly trying to save a copy of the Chairman's speeches that had fallen into the river."
Xu's eyes smoldered. She slapped the stick lightly in her palm, as if gauging its balance. "My chief investigator and Lieutenant Sui were friends. Sui would come here and wait for him sometimes by the stairs, at the end of the day." Shan glanced at the door. The bald man would be there, in the lobby, while Sui waited, listening to what Sui said. Perhaps, Shan thought, Xu's real investigator was the quiet, unobtrusive bald man. "Sui boasted a lot. He bought a new television, a new radio, a Japanese vacuum cleaner. He was going to buy a new car soon."
Shan stared at her. "The streets are paved with gold in Yoktian. You don't even have to be in the Brigade to get rich. But especially the Brigade. Comrade Ko, he's so rich he can give his sports car to Bao."
"Bao? Impossible. Complete opposites. They barely speak to one another. I've heard them argue in meetings. Ko says Bao is too rooted in the old economy. Bao says Ko does not sufficiently appreciate what the state has done for him."
"But he did," Shan said. "Should be simple enough to verify. A bright red car in a dull grey town." Xu's eyes stared intensely on the wooden slat, as if it might explain why Ko would do such an unlikely thing.
"Ko doesn't make enough in five years to buy such a car," she said slowly, speaking to the slat.
"But now he has announced he will buy another one, to take Loshi for a ride."
Xu looked up, her face clouded. "Loshi?" Xu asked, then nodded as if she had remembered that Shan had spoken with Loshi when he had visited the first time. Her hands became busy, playing with the slat, shifting it from one hand to the other. Then she abruptly laid it on the table and clasped her hands over it. "It's the bonuses," she said in a low voice.
"Bonuses?"
"You saw the memorandum from Ko. Economic incentives. It's the new world, comrade." Xu sounded unconvinced. "The market economy comes to Yoktian. Blend the best of capitalism with the tenets of socialism."
"Must be the Chinese characteristics that confuse me," Shan said with an exaggerated shrug, completing the slogan. It had been painted, bannered, and chiseled throughout China for years. Build for Socialism with Chinese Characteristics. He stared down at his own hands. "But Ko was just talking about disc players for students and teachers."
"There's more. It's the Brigade. They're so infected with capitalism," she said bitterly. "Bonuses to workers for achieving special goals."
"Special goals?"
"Bring in unregistered sheep, fifty renminbi. Bring in unregistered herders to be converted to Brigade employees, five hundred renminbi. Bring in unlicensed religious practitioners to be screened and licensed, three thousand, half in cash, half in Brigade shares."
