Lost In Translation Part 27

Free to choose, to love.

Free to live in China, or in the United States.

No-not the United States. People will still remember. My name will still be Mannegan and people will never let me forget it. It's not worth fighting it there. But I could live here-or Hong Kong or Taipei. n.o.body cares or knows or is even aware of it in Asia. And I could let my guard down, be what my instincts tell me to be. My real self. It was the same thing Pierre had wished for Lucile: You know that nothing makes me more happy than to feel that you are living fully by the best of more happy than to feel that you are living fully by the best of yourself. yourself.

"Hai you qita s.h.i.+ ma?" the woman inquired. the woman inquired.

Alice shook her head sadly. "No. Nothing else."

"The lieutenant will see you now," said the crisply uniformed soldier.

He held open the door.

Lieutenant Shan half rose from behind his desk, all courtesy, all controlled bearing.

Oh, G.o.d, she thought: it's him-he's in charge of the Army here too.

The lieutenant recognized her too. She saw it in his face, although he covered expertly.

Shan smiled. Everyone smiled back except Alice.

Kuyuk made introductions. "Dr. Lin, Dr. Kong of Huabei University, and the Americans, Dr. Spencer, Miss Mo."

Lieutenant Shan emitted the small hospitable sounds which were correct in such situations. These monosyllables conveyed his pleasure at meeting them, but by their brevity reminded everyone of his very busy, very superior position.

Ah, good, Alice thought, watching him. He still didn't know she spoke Chinese. Kuyuk had not identified her as the interpreter, just introduced her by name. Now Shan was directing himself entirely at Kuyuk, Lin, and Kong-ignoring her and Spencer, obviously a.s.suming the two Americans didn't understand him. It's too good to be true, she thought. He still doesn't know.

Of course, before the meeting's over he's going to find out I speak Chinese, but I can control when it happens. When? she thought. What moment do I select to make it crystal clear that when his soldiers brought me in the other day I understood every single vulgar word he said? She drew a careful breath, kept her face neutral.

Now Kuyuk delineated their research in Chinese, explaining why they believed Peking Man to be in the cave. Shan listened, impa.s.sive.

She stepped close to Spencer and delivered a soft, discreet translation into his ear.

When Kuyuk completed his monologue Shan cleared his throat. "It is our honor to welcome you to the Alashan Banner of Inner Mongolia. As you have surmised, the cave in question is part of our installation. It cannot be entered, I'm afraid. The equipment inside is very sensitive, highly sophisticated. Exceedingly dangerous."

Alice's lips parted in surprise. So polished! And he'd been so crude and foul-mouthed the week before.... Watch yourself, she thought. Be careful.

Shan took out a pack of Chinese cigarettes and offered them around. Kuyuk and Kong accepted and, along with Shan, lit up. As he had before, that other day in Yinchuan, Lieutenant Shan did not seem to inhale and exhale, but rather to take smoke into his mouth and then just begin speaking, so that the smoke drifted in and out around his words.

"You will understand, then, why I could never permit you to enter the cave," Shan finished easily. "It's impossible."

"Ask him if there's any way he'd consider us entering together with his men," Spencer whispered.

Now, she thought.

She took a step forward and cleared her throat.

"Esteemed Lieutenant," she announced in her most precise, sn.o.bbish, Peking-accented Mandarin. "This miserable interpreter would speak. The American scientist asks if our team may search the cave under the protection and guidance of your technicians. Of course we would follow their instructions in every particular."

Shan's mouth fell slightly slack. Smoke eddied out.

Yes! she thought.

The lieutenant stubbed out his cigarette hurriedly. He lit another.

"I beg you to forgive my execrable Chinese," she added gleefully. "I'm nothing but a foreigner. My Mandarin is hopelessly inadequate."

"It's excellent," he murmured.

You bet your sorry a.s.s it is! "Lieutenant. Have you not heard it said? The superior man is well versed in both polite letters and and military affairs. I, a mere outsider, can claim neither. Unlike military affairs. I, a mere outsider, can claim neither. Unlike your your honorable self." honorable self."

Lin s.h.i.+yang stared at the little russet-haired foreigner. It was all he could do not to throw his head back and laugh, right in front of all of them, from sheer delight. How many women would do such a thing? "It's true," he put in to support her. "The lieutenant is an exalted official of high sensibilities."

"Ni shuo shenmo?" What are you saying? Kong whispered urgently in his ear. What are you saying? Kong whispered urgently in his ear.

"Just listen," Lin whispered back.

"I will have to take this request of yours under advis.e.m.e.nt," Shan said, his control slipping.

"Lieutenant," Kuyuk put in, attempting to steer the conversation back where it belonged, "if you would consider. The recovery of Peking Man will bring glory to our country."

"I know." Shan ground out his second cigarette.

"Esteemed sir," Alice cut in boldly. "I note by your accent that you are from the South. You're Cantonese?"

Now Lin stared at her.

She held him off with the tiniest movement of her head.

"Yes," Shan answered her reluctantly. "I'm Cantonese."

"So far away! Your mother-she's still living?"

"Yes ..."

"You must think of her often," Alice said sweetly. "With every sentence you speak."

Understanding, knowing the Cantonese phrase in question, Lin broke into a grin. The other Chinese speakers stood confounded.

"Anyway," she concluded, "we hope you will consider our request yourself. Personally. It is so tiresome to have to report everything to Beijing. I mean everything. everything. Isn't it so?" Isn't it so?"

"You will have to forgive me," the lieutenant blurted finally. "I have another appointment. As to the matter of entering the cave, I will see what can be done. Give me a little time. A technical escort would have to be very, very carefully arranged. I will think back and forth."

Alice repeated this in English, trying to keep triumph out of her voice.

"Jesus and Mary." Spencer squeezed his eyes shut. "What was that, anyway? What did you say?"

"I negotiated." She laughed. "Chinese style."

As they walked out of the building into the white desert sunlight, Lin stepped close to her. "The final stroke of jia chi jia chi bu dian, bu dian, playing stupid while being smart." His face was radiant. "Well done. Truly, Mo Ai-li, you are more than Mu-lan. You surpa.s.s her." playing stupid while being smart." His face was radiant. "Well done. Truly, Mo Ai-li, you are more than Mu-lan. You surpa.s.s her."

"To you I must seem"-she swallowed. Was she too aggressive for him, too un-Chinese?-"too direct," she finished.

"But that is you, Interpreter Mo," he said, surprised.

That is me. She thought of Pierre's letter to Lucile: Why Why do you ask me to forgive you anything about it? You are so true in do you ask me to forgive you anything about it? You are so true in what you say, what you say, - -so yourself,-"si belle," dearest.... dearest.... She looked at Lin now, climbing into the jeep, fitting himself into the backseat. He glanced down at her, happy, face open. Did he actually see her, the real Alice? She looked at Lin now, climbing into the jeep, fitting himself into the backseat. He glanced down at her, happy, face open. Did he actually see her, the real Alice?

Back at the guesthouse, washed, refreshed, she left her room thinking about the real reason she had bested Shan. It was because she had thought as a Chinese: know your enemy, conceal your knowledge, then when the time is right feint to the east and attack to the west. An ancient technique, one she had absorbed, living here, almost without knowing it. Still effective.

Oh, she loved the haze, the hallucinogenic dream that came over her when she managed to merge, for even an instant, with the Chinese way of thinking. Usually it was when she was alone in China for long periods, speaking, thinking, dreaming, only in Mandarin. She would imagine herself part of it. An illusion, of course. She knew that.

As she came down the stairs she heard the wind groaning. It rattled the windows.

"Xiao Mo!"

She blinked. Lin's voice, imperative. But from where?

She walked out across the empty floor.

"Xiao Mo."

Behind her. She turned. He stood in an alcove behind the staircase.

She glanced around, confused. No one else there.

"Guolai, " he whispered, Come here. " he whispered, Come here.

She strode quickly to him and he took a step back, grasping her by the elbows, drawing her into the shadows with him.

From in front of the building erupted the babble of Chinese voices, rising over the wind.

The door clattered open.

Lin laid one dark finger on her lips, shook his head.

Along with the jumble of shoes on stone she heard the spurt of Mandarin: the nasal, deliberate tones of Kong and the harsher-sounding Mongol-accented banter of Kuyuk.

She pressed against Lin's white-s.h.i.+rted chest, laid her cheek against the cloth. Why doesn't he put his arms around me? she thought.

The noisy footsteps pa.s.sed them, clattered on up the steps, faded into the hallway above their heads. The voices grew smaller and smaller until they were gone.

Lin stood staring down at her, still holding her lightly by the elbows.

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

"Shenmo?" he whispered, noticing the change in her face and raising his own eyebrows in inquiry. he whispered, noticing the change in her face and raising his own eyebrows in inquiry.

"Why did you call me over here?"

He released her elbows. Uncertainty shadowed his face. "Duibuqi. "Duibuqi. Maybe I shouldn't have. I guess I just wanted to see if you'd come." Maybe I shouldn't have. I guess I just wanted to see if you'd come."

Longing rose up in her throat. He was releasing his reserve so gradually, with such infinite control. Would he let it go completely? What would happen when he did? If he did. She dropped her arms to her side, stood stock still, her eyes in his, only a few inches separating them.

At the sound from the second floor they both looked up. The voices were back, and the footsteps, now scuffling above their heads toward the top of the stairs. She sighed. The two of them stepped apart, and walked out into the light, into the large empty hall, as if nothing had taken place.

Kuyuk took them to three canyons with monkey sun G.o.d petroglyphs. At each place they drove to where the dirt track became impa.s.sable and then hiked on farther, until they came to the rock art. The petroglyphs were small, only a few inches high, and each was carved on a boulder that sat in some spot utterly lacking in significance. Just the steep limestone canyons, the rivers of rock, and on one rock, inexplicably, the carving. They searched all around each rock. They explored the canyons. They saw nothing to suggest Peking Man was here instead of in the cave. There was only the jumble of rocks, and the petroglyphs.

"You're right about these," Spencer said to Kong. He stood staring at one of the carvings in the third canyon, his usual blue work s.h.i.+rt spotted with sweat. "The way the carving's worn down-it looks really old. Late Paleolithic at least. Yet it's a complex motif-sophisticated-and a monkey, which was a nonnative animal. And this far up the canyon"-he paused, looked up and down the slope-"so far from the valley floor where they must have lived. Who were these people?"

Kong looked longingly at the rock carving while she translated. "Shui dou bu zhidao, bu zhidao, " he answered, No one knows. " he answered, No one knows.

"A messenger brought it," she said to Spencer, holding out the single sheet of crackly onionskin paper. "I'll translate. 'Invoice to the American Dr. Spencer. For special escort services requested, including four trucks, twenty armed men, three munitions specialists, and two vault technicians-' "

"I didn't request all that!"

"Of course you didn't. Anyway: 'Please remit in advance our costs, twenty-eight thousand seven hundred and fifty-eight renminbi. Cordially, Lieutenant Shan, People's Liberation Army, Commander, Alashan Base, Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region.' "

Spencer sank down on the edge of his bed and dropped his face into his hands. "Twenty-eight thousand what? What?"

"Renminbi." She calculated. "Almost thirty-four hundred U.S. dollars."

"What!"

"That's what it says."

"But that's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. This is how things work."

"I can't believe people stand for it."

"You know what a lot of the Chinese say about their system? Yi pan san sha, Yi pan san sha, That China is a plate of sand. If they don't have a firm hand holding the whole thing together, it will fly off to the heavens in random pinwheels, no gravity. So they expect stuff like this. They work with it. It's the deal." That China is a plate of sand. If they don't have a firm hand holding the whole thing together, it will fly off to the heavens in random pinwheels, no gravity. So they expect stuff like this. They work with it. It's the deal."

"Why didn't he bring this up in the meeting?"

"I suppose he found it difficult to ask you directly." Of course, she knew, it was also because she'd just beaten him and he'd lost unimaginable face.

"But I don't have any more money."

"I know," she sympathized.

He rubbed at his head. He took his notebook out, wrote the numbers, and stared at them. "Alice, help me out here. Is there any way around this?"

"No," she said. "Not entirely. The PLA is a business. You're a customer. You want something special and it's going to cost. Now the first price has been named. In my experience, once a bribe is demanded, it has to be satisfied. It might be negotiated down-but it must be paid. Otherwise he'll lose face again. And then you'll never get what you want."

"So how do we negotiate?"

She thought. "Entering a nuclear silo is a pretty stiff request. I think it's worth at least a thousand U.S. dollars. Let's say you aim to end up at that level-that would be about eight or nine thousand renminbi-you should start out offering say, half that. Offer four or five hundred dollars. Then there's room to compromise."