by Bill Brewer
“I remember. You were the guy who gave me Healix.”
“That’s right. You were in pretty rough shape at that point, but you’re looking a far sight better now.”
“Right, but I’m here to end up looking a far sight different aren’t I?”
“You sure are. Isn’t it amazing what can be done now that we can manipulate genetic information with digital signals?”
“Yeah, it sure is.” Diegert brought up the picture of Jian Wong on his phone and showed it to Hiram. “Let’s download the app to my phone so we can get on with it.”
Hiram hesitated. “Um… I thought you were to provide me with the picture, and I would control the program from my computer.”
“Look, you don’t want to be the guy who doesn’t listen to Klaus Panzer. Didn’t you read the e-mail telling you to put the app on my phone so I can do the process in the field if necessary?”
“Was that a recent e-mail?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Look I’ve got other things I have to do today. Let’s go.”
Hiram’s doubt was evident, but Diegert’s insistence was compelling. The uncertain PA sent the program to Diegert’s phone. With the app installed, the picture of Jian rendered in 3D, and Diegert sitting comfortably in a reclining chair, they were ready to go.
“Is this going to hurt?” asked a glaring Diegert.
“I don’t know. There are no instructions indicating it will.”
“But you’ve got stuff to give me if it does, right?”
“Oh yes. I’m fully prepared.”
“Yeah,” said Diegert with a sarcastic smirk. “So fully prepared, I had to ask about the pain. Don’t fuck this up. Let’s get going.”
The structure of the human face is basically the same from person to person. The difference in appearance is in the multitude of subtle variations that exist amongst people. It is these specific structural anomalies that the Creation Labs app instructed the nanocytes to alter in the skin and underlying muscle and bone tissue of Diegert’s face. Nerves, blood vessels, sweat glands and tendons are untouched. While the contours and density of the skin, the concentration and color of hair as well as the location of moles, freckles and scars, along with the pigmentation of the face is changed according to the data gleaned from the analysis of Jian’s photo.
Diegert was amazed that he felt nothing. No sound, no creepy skin feeling, no pain. The procedure went on for about twenty minutes during which Diegert dozed off and actually snored. Hiram returned when the program on Diegert’s phone indicated the process was complete.
Walking in, Hiram was stunned. In spite of being fully aware of the entire process, Hiram Bellsworth was astounded by the completely different looking man sitting in the chair. His astonishment was not hidden, causing Diegert to react with alarm. “Hey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
Diegert stepped from the chair, turning to look in the mirror behind him. He too was stunned to see a strange man looking back. The Asian man in the mirror was shocked to see himself and it was even more amazing to see the face expressing such feelings. The novelty made him laugh, and he was so surprised when the reflection laughed as well. His look of consternation in response to the man’s mirth was shared, which again surprised him.
Turning to Hiram, he smiled. “I guess it worked. Call me Jian Wong.”
“Wow this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” said the wide-eyed PA.
Diegert shrugged.
Hiram went on, “No pain, no bleeding, no change in function yet you are totally different. I’m amazed, and I was right here the whole time.”
“Yeah, it’s really something.”
“I’ve got to go tell Avery,” said Hiram as he exited the room.
Stepping closer to the mirror, Diegert made funny faces as well as a sad face, angry, happy, goofy and a serious face. He had a new face, and it was his to play with. Feeling like a kid with a new toy, he practiced controlling it. He closed one eye then the other, puckering and twisting his lips to the left and then the right. He ran his tongue over his teeth and stuck his tongue out. It felt no different. After a few minutes he started to pretend he was Jian Wong. He placed his right fist in his left hand and bowed to show respect to an elder as Avery had taught him. He practiced being polite with his eyesight, deferring the western habit of direct eye contact. Leave it to modern technology to change your entire life in twenty minutes without pain or interruption of function.
When Avery walked in, his surprise was more muted since he was practiced in controlling his emotions. He looked at Diegert as he walked around him, seeking the edge of the mask at the border of his face. He stepped forward, reaching out to touch. The skin was soft, warm and pliable. It did not rub off. Taking Diegert’s phone he looked at the picture of Jian Wong. He looked back and forth several times until he nodded his head. “You no longer appear like David Diegert. You are Jian Wong.”
Hiram glancing up from his computer screen said, “All his nanocyte data is normal. His heart rate is a bit elevated, but I think he’s just excited.”
Avery gestured with his hand. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to your two cultural coaches.”
Diegert and Avery entered a conference room, which had a large meeting table with twelve chairs. There was also a kitchenette in the corner, adjacent to several comfortable upholstered chairs around a coffee table. Standing by the kitchenette were a young man dressed in a simple, dark business suit, and a woman wearing a white shirt with dark jacket and matching knee length skirt. They smiled when Avery and Diegert, appearing as Jian Wong, entered.
“Hello,” said Avery, shaking hands with the man, “Zhang Yong, this is Jian Wong.” Diegert was thrown by being introduced with someone else’s name, but he instantly recovered, offering his hand to the man, who smiled broadly as they shook. “And this is Li Wu.” Diegert took her hand as she also offered a big friendly smile.
Avery went on, “Jian has never been to China, but he is going there to conduct some important business, so I’m glad you’ve agreed to help him understand basic customs so his trip will be a success.”
Not wanting to let Avery dominate things, Diegert spoke up, “I’ve always been fascinated by China, so I’m happy to learn how to act so I’m not immediately identified as a foreigner.”
Avery gave a wry smile. “Well, I’ll leave you folks to it.”
Everyone smiled at Avery as he closed the door behind him.
Diegert as Jian said, “I don’t speak a single word. Will I be able to get along with English?”
Wu, the young woman, asked, “In what city will you be conducting business?”
“Ah, Shanghai.”
“What type of business will you be conducting?” she asked.
“Um, finance and banking.”
With a tilt of her head and a coy smile she said, “In Shanghai, the financial sector employs many people who have earned degrees overseas, and most of them are proficient in Chinese.”
“In Chinese? What about English?”
Wu giggled and put her face in her hands. “I… I meant English.”
Diegert looked at her as her cheeks glowed with embarrassment.
Yong looked askance at Wu as he spoke up. “Only one percent of the population of China are proficient speakers of English; however that is 10 million people. In well-educated, urban populations working in international business, that number rises to 78%. The likelihood that you will be able to successfully complete your mission while only speaking English is quite high.”
Trying to pull the embarrassed woman back into the conversation, Diegert asked, “Li, can you tell me about the custom of shaking hands? Do they shake hands in China?”
Her brow furrowed. “First, in Chinese culture, names are used in reverse of English. Therefore, Li is my last name and Wu is my first name. Only close friends and family members would call me by my first name. In a situation like this, you would address me as Ms. Li.”
Jian nodded. “Okay, reverse the names a
nd call them Mr. or Ms.. I can do that.”
Ms. Li continued, “About shaking hands, it is a common form of greeting, and you will certainly have to do it as part of your business meetings.
“Okay.”
“But,” interjected Yong, “It is the Chinese custom to shake hands gently. Americans tend to squeeze the hand as a show of strength. They also shake the whole arm and body of the person they’re greeting. This is in poor taste for the Chinese. Shake gently and slowly.”
Yong extended his hand. Jian took the hand much slower and more carefully than before. He shook just the hand, with no movement at the elbow or shoulder.
“Very good,” said Yong, “It’s a simple transition.”
Once again turning his attention to the woman, Jian asked, “Ms. Li, what about the presentation of gifts?”
“Yes, of course, gift giving is a big part of the Chinese culture. Opening a gift is not done when the gift is presented. This would be awkward.”
“What if one insisted, would the receiver of the gift be obligated to comply?”
“Not only obligated, but also embarrassed.”
“They would have to open it though,” pressed Jain, “if the giver insisted, even in public.”
“I do not recommend it, if it is a relationship you hope to build and maintain for a long time. The person will comply with the socially awkward insistence, but they would consider the act to be in very poor taste. It would cause them to lose face.”
“Okay, I see. Not a good idea.”
Yong added, “If you give a gift, it should not be of too great a value, and it should be done with discretion.”
“Well thank you two, you’ve taught me a lot. Avery gave me your numbers so can I call you if I have any questions?”
The two coaches nodded their heads. Yong said, “Sure.” Stepping closer to Jian, he bowed and offered his hand. Jian gently grasped his hand and shook it slowly with very little force.
Wu said, “I’d be happy to help you,” as she too lowered and raised her head before extending her hand. Jian was even more careful to be gentle with Wu’s delicate hand.
“Great,” said Diegert with a winning Jian smile. “I appreciate all your help and look forward to working with you again.”.
Back in his quarters, Diegert looked at himself. It was still weird to see a different face in the mirror, but it was also strange how it felt kind of liberating. As if his problems were not his problems anymore. It was a relief to know that his Sino coaches seemed to think that he could conduct his business using only English. This seemed nutty, but the mission perimeters didn’t really involve a lot of conversation.
A text from Avery arrived. You’ve been authorized to talk with your mom. Audio only, no screen sharing.
A few minutes later, his phone rang. “Hello, Mom.”
“Hey, David. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m doing okay, for a person held in a comfortable apartment who’s not allowed to leave.”
“You are comfortable though?”
“Yes, but the part about not being able to leave is more my point.”
“I know, but I heard some news about your health.”
“What did you hear?”
“I heard you’ve been diagnosed with cancer.”
“See, I’m supposed to control who knows this. Health information is confidential. I don’t want you worrying about me.”
“I’m always concerned about you. I always want to know that you’re okay. It’s not a worry, it’s a concern. Now what have the doctors said?”
“There’s only one doctor. That Dr. Zeidler. Have you met her?”
Diegert recalled the coldhearted treatment he received when he first arrived in the medical facility at LPU. “Yeah, she’s very clinical.”
“I know what that means, but at least she shouldn’t make the situation worse.”
“Worse? No, they’re going to make it better. I’m making sure that Panzer sees to it that you’re going to receive the best treatment possible.”
“See that, David. There you go again, making me your priority. I always feel like things are going to be okay when you’re watching out for me.”
“I know you don’t like being kept inside your apartment, but if we were in Broward, you would not get the kind of treatment for cancer like you will here.”
“I never thought about that, but when the cancer’s gone, I’d like to be free.”
“All right, I’ll work on it.” A warning came up on the screen. Thirty seconds remaining.
“I love you. I think about and care about you every day.”
“I love you too. I hope to see you soon.”
“You will, you will. Bye bye.”
“Goodbye, David.”
CHAPTER 5
The Gulfstream touched down at the Hongqiao Airport, delivering Diegert, in the appearance of Jian Wong, to the city of Shanghai. His credentials cleared in the Fixed Base of Operations, and a car was waiting to take him to the home of Chin Lee Wei. The ride took forty minutes during which Diegert saw the vast disparity of wealth in China. Passing through the overcrowded urban tenements, where people seemed to eke out a meager living with great difficulty, he moved through middle class homes which were startlingly similar to American suburban subdivisions. As he got closer to his destination, the homes grew bigger, setback farther from the road. There were intricate and ornate gardens, lovely pagodas, golf courses and a serene peace to the area, bought by the huge prices of the homes. Just like America, Europe and South America, money defines housing and here was where the money was.
Throughout the ride, the driver, whose head was covered in a ball cap and eyes were covered with sunglasses, said nothing. Diegert had confirmed the address. The driver nodded and away they went. When the man finally did speak it was with an unmistakable Australian accent. “All right, mate. Your address is coming up here. I understand that you are only going to be here for a short visit and that you'll be leaving in a big hurry.”
Leaning to look into the rearview mirror Diegert said, “That’s right.”
“You’ll be leaving that big bag of yours and just taking in your gift.”
“Uh ha”
“Very well then, this is your address. I’ll be parked over there with the other cars.”
Diegert looked to his left at the parking area as he exited the vehicle to the right.
Dressed in a dark wool business suit, Diegert looked like a young man rising to success on a booming aspect of the Chinese economy. A tuxedoed staffer bowed his head slightly and directed Diegert to the section of the house where the family was greeting their friends. Diegert was polite and deferential to the people he passed, but he was certain he was disregarding those who knew Jian Wong and may have been alarmed at his behavior. He pushed forward, always smiling. When he got to the room in which the Wei family was seated, he looked in and identified Chin Lee, his wife Ming Ya, Qiang, Shing and surprisingly Mei Ling. Avery said that Mei Ling would be in London, but here she was for the Spring Festival. Remembering what he had learned for his cultural coaches, Diegert was relieved that well educated, sophisticated people like the Wei family, would all be fluent in English. If he started speaking in English they would reply in kind. Jian graduated from Berkeley and worked for an American firm, hence the English. This would eventually get awkward though, so he knew he had to minimize conversation and move quickly to get the job done.
When Mei Ling saw him, her face beamed, and she walked straight over to him. Her eyes sparkled, and her smile was broad and inviting. She tilted her head, batted her eyelids, and blushed when she got closer to him.
“Hello, how are you?” asked Diegert quickly.
Mei Ling’s smile vanished when she heard Jian speak. She replied, with her British accent, “I’ve been waiting for you. I’m so glad to see you.”
She extended her hand, which Diegert knew he could shake, but with a gentle grip.
Reading her
signals, Diegert was off guard. He knew that Qiang and he were friends, but he was unprepared for the romance suggested in Mei Ling’s coquettish greeting. Often uncomfortable with women, especially in social situations, Diegert had to not be himself and instead be Jian Wong. Diegert had learned that Jian was an outgoing, gregarious and popular guy. Not possessing any of these traits, Diegert had to become a convincing actor. He had the guy’s face, but not his talents. He needed to fake it just long enough to kill Qiang and escape.
Taking his arm and escorting him into a side room where warrior armor, swords and other edged weapons were prominently displayed, Mei Ling smiled up at him, asking, “Why are you wearing that business suit? Where are your fun clothes? It’s New Years!”
“I just wanted to show respect.”
“Yeah right, since when? We look for you to set the trends and bring the new generation to the old. You can’t be you, in a business suit. Besides, you’re speaking English in our house.”
“Everything old is new again.”
“What?”
Diegert realized that American saying was of no help. “I have to go greet Qiang.”
Grabbing his arm as he turned to leave she asked, “What have you got there?”
“It’s a gift for Qiang.”
“Why are you giving him a gift on New Years?”
“When I saw this, I knew he would really like it.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
“Since when is he more important than me? We both know you became his friend just so you could get closer to me.”
The look on her face demanded a reply.
“Of course that’s true, but I have to keep up appearances.”
With a look of astonishment Mei Ling said, “Aha, so now you finally admit it.”
Jumping up and down like the little school girl she had just returned to being, Mei Ling said, “Wait ‘til I tell him.”
“No, you can’t tell him that.”
“What do you mean? You know how long he has been teasing me.”
“I’m going to go see him now.”
“Wait.” Again she grabbed his arm. “I don’t want you to leave.”
