Dragon Bones (Red Princess 3)

But the concerns of one individual were of minor interest to Zai when the philosophical conflicts between Zhu Rongji and Li Peng—and the Ministry of State Security and the Ministry of Public Security—were being played out in Beijing, where what mattered were issues such as how the dam would proceed and would a Confucian or Taoist methodology be followed, where consideration had to be given to how China would approach the United States about Michael Quon, his involvement in the All-Patriotic Society, and what he had attempted to do with VYRUSCAN at the Three Gorges Dam. Trying to control the masses was one thing; trying to destroy the dam was quite another.

A delib

erately defective version of VYRUSCAN—the program that had made Quon so wealthy—had been located in the Three Gorges Dam’s computerized safety system. Michael Quon had broken many of his many tenets, but perhaps this was the most insidious of all. He had used dreaded “Confucian” technology to try to disrupt the dam’s systems so that the river might run free again and he could solidify his position as a religious and political leader. He who controls the waters….

“The bombing of the embassy in Yugoslavia and the downing of the American spy plane pale in comparison to this scandal,” Zai said, “but is it worth political chest beating on either side of the Pacific? Is it worth tapping into the U.S.’s worst xenophobic fears about spies and terrorism at a time when our two countries need to work together to fight both of these threats? And what if worming versions of VYRUSCAN have been implanted either narrowly or broadly in the States? China’s future hinges on the U.S. staying economically strong for a while longer.”

Perhaps even more important, Hulan thought, was it worth riling up the masses to let them know of Michael Quon’s demonic acts against China? Was it worth more anti-American demonstrations? Or would this knowledge merely provoke unwanted questions about the dam’s vulnerability and the leadership’s vincibility?

“But why do we talk about all this?” Zai asked lightly. “What matters is that you and David are happy again. We will all go home to Beijing, and everything will be the same.”

“It will never be the same,” Hulan said. “I loved you like a father, but you were willing to risk our lives—”

“Nothing happened to you, and we have had a happy result,” he said reassuringly, but his features were filled with pain and remorse.

She turned her face away from him. He stood up, and with his fingers he gently lifted her chin. “Whatever decisions you make, know that I will always love you,” he said. “Good-bye, daughter.” With that he walked away. She was unsure if she would ever see him again.

Hulan got a ride out to Site 518 with Officer Ge Fei, who was now the highest-ranking policeman in Bashan’s Public Security Bureau. On the way, she reflected on some other aspects of the case. Stuart Miller didn’t get to be a big public hero; however, people in power noted his role in all this and he’d been quietly given a medal in gratitude for his efforts to aid China, while his company was awarded several very lucrative state projects. Captain Hom, by contrast, became a true Chinese hero. Hom had wanted desperately to protect the people of Bashan, but the government now used his death for very different reasons. He was being held up as an exemplar of socialist behavior in the same category as martyrs like Lei Feng and Liu Hulan. Tales of his childhood were being collected for a picture book, while a small volume of his sayings was already being rushed to press by a publisher in Chongqing. Thanks to Captain Hom, all across the country posters for the All-Patriotic Society had been painted out, Internet connections cut, and phrases like “Be reverent” (an admonition first spoken by Emperor Yao forty-three hundred years ago) removed from daily discourse. Fortunately for Hom’s extended family, his brother-in-law’s life and death had “disappeared.” Nothing could be allowed to mar the propaganda value gained by Hom’s death.

Hulan arrived at Site 518, found David, and together they passed among clusters of people to say good-bye. Then Hulan and David walked out past the Wu house and down the path until they reached the little beach that had been Brian’s refuge. The river had calmed and lowered. The cliffs that soared above the current were now covered with trash at the high-water mark: plastic bags suspended on jagged rocks, bottles jammed into the tangle of roots, clothing twisted, torn, and flapping on inaccessible precipices. All of these things would stay where they were until time wore them out, wind ripped them away, or the next flood washed them to sea. Hulan had great faith in the river’s persistence. It might be slowed, but it would never stop.

Hulan let all of her regrets come into her mind. She thought about the way she had denounced her father during the Cultural Revolution and how his time in a labor camp had changed him into a killer. She had been a child then who didn’t know any better, and now she took her regrets about everything that had happened as a result of her actions and tossed them into the river. She thought about her mother and let all of Jinli’s suffering float away on a little wave. Hulan thought about the women in the Knight factory and understood in a way she couldn’t allow herself to before that she had saved more lives than had been lost. She wrapped those mothers and daughters in love and released them into the current. She conjured up the woman she had shot on the square and knew in her heart that she had saved that little girl. They too drifted out of sight. She remembered Hom—his bravery and the terrible pain he’d endured—then let him peacefully swirl and ripple away. Hulan had tried to save all of them, and she forgave herself for the ones she couldn’t. Finally, Hulan let her daughter come fully into her heart. The tragedy of Chaowen’s death could never be forgotten, but Hulan could honor her by loving her and her father forever.

Hulan looked up into David’s eyes. She saw in them unconditional, unending love. During these last few days, David and Hulan had talked about moving back to Los Angeles. They had also discussed trying to get pregnant again—not to replace Chaowen but to create the family they needed, wanted, and deserved. Hulan truly believed they had a chance at happiness. She squeezed David’s hand, and wordlessly they began the long journey home.