Mouse laughed. ‘You bet they are! Now take a seat.’
It was strangely thrilling for Tashi to be sitting in front of a computer terminal for the first time in her life.
‘We want to find out about Botulinum Toxin,’ her friend said.
Mouse googled the poison and quickly found information about it. Tashi was astonished how fast the process was.
‘I’ve got a list of symptoms this stuff can cause,’ he said.
Mouse printed it out. Virtually every single one of the health problems Tashi and her friends had been experiencing was there in black and white.
‘It’s conclusive,’ her friend said. ‘At least we know for sure.’
‘You got fifty minutes left,’ Mouse said. ‘Any more requests? Or I can show you the Tiananmen Square hacks I pulled off yesterday if you like?’
‘Tiananmen Square?’ Tashi frowned. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a massive demonstration we’re not supposed to know about,’ her friend told her. ‘The moment when the people of China almost brought down their own government.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s totally censored by Beijing,’ Mouse added. ‘It’s taken me six months to get round the blocks.’
He tapped feverishly at the keyboard.
‘This is a BBC News report of the early stages,’ he said, turning the screen to face them.
The image flickered magically into life. Thousands of Chinese protestors were waving banners and singing in a huge square.
‘So many people,’ Tashi said in wonder. ‘What do they all want?’
‘Change. Freedom to live their lives without interruption and control by the government.’
‘Old people, young people. Everyone is there!’ her friend said.
‘And the soldiers are joining them!’ Tashi added. The footage showed young military men, smiling shyly at the camera as they linked arms with the protestors.
‘These were the first couple of days,’ Mouse said. ‘But things went sour pretty quickly once the government saw that they were losing control.’
He tapped more words into the search box.
Tashi frowned as she saw demonstrators running in the next clip. Canisters of white smoke were going off in the video, soldiers were beating people with their batons. Water cannons were directed at the panicking masses. Tashi got the impression of total chaos.
Then the camera swung towards a group of soldiers. They looked astonishingly young. A student protestor wearing a bandana and looking little more than sixteen years old yelled something towards them and an officer barked a command. One of the young soldiers pulled out a gun.
And shot the protestor through the head.
Tashi felt her chest constrict. Her breathing became rapid and her head began to spin.
‘Let me see that again,’ Tashi said.
Mouse ran the clip once more.
‘Can you stop the image when I say?’ Tashi asked.
‘Sure.’
Tashi got Mouse to stop the video so she could get a good look at the young soldier’s face. The image was crystal clear. He was a lot younger than he looked now but there was no doubt.
‘I know that person,’ she said. ‘His name is Chen.’
That night Tashi found herself sweating in her sheets. Her breath became short; she was suffering from asthma for the first time in her life.
The video footage of the Tiananmen Square incident was playing over and over in her mind. Chen shooting that student. An unarmed boy. Straight through the forehead.
The man that Karma had fought back against was already a killer.
It was the speed at which he obeyed the order from his officer. The unquestioning way he had just pulled out his pistol and killed a boy virtually his own age. Like a robot. Like a machine. Tashi could not get those pictures out of her mind. And it made her even more fearful for her brother.
Work continued, the poisoning campaign rolled on for month after month until finally it was impossible for Tashi to continue to hide the effects from her parents.
‘Your skin is looking terrible,’ her mother told her.
‘And your eyes are bloodshot all the time. Are you sick, Tashi?’
But Tashi still kept the toxin work secret. When they asked what she was doing she replied she was ‘working in the fields’. It was partly true, but Tashi felt terrible to be hiding the true nature of her work from them.
More time passed. Then came the throat problems. A hacking cough which just would not clear up. One day after breakfast her mother took her aside.
‘I can’t remember the last time you were well,’ she said tenderly. ‘What is happening to you Tashi?’
‘Nothing,’ she sniffed. ‘Just under the weather that’s all.’
‘It’s the work, isn’t it?’ her father demanded. ‘What are they doing to you?’
Tashi was tired of keeping her secret. She told them the whole story, watching their expressions darken thunderously as the tale unfolded.
‘They are not just poisoning the pika,’ her father said. ‘They’re poisoning you too.’
Tashi’s father walked with her to the work depot the next morning, determined to have it out with the supervisor. Tashi stood with her heart tripping as the boss looked up to see who had barged into his office.
‘What are you doing to my daughter?’ her father demanded. ‘Look how sick she has become. Why do you force her to handle poisons every day?’
‘We certainly do not,’ the supervisor snapped. ‘We only distribute such toxins by aircraft. We drop them safely from the air so that no one has to handle them.’
Tashi felt her mouth fall open. This official was telling a bare-faced lie.
‘Then how do you explain her sickness?’ Tashi’s father asked.
‘She probably caught something from one of the other workers,’ he suggested. ‘There are many chronic diseases amongst the local population.’
‘My daughter hardly had a day sick in her life,’ Tashi’s father objected. ‘Only when she came under your control did she become ill.’
The supervisor rose.
‘This interview is over,’ he snapped.
He showed them abruptly to the door.
‘I think he’s corrupt,’ Tashi’s father said as they walked the streets towards home. ‘He’s taken the money for the aircraft and kept it for himself.’
‘Probably,’ Tashi said. ‘He does drive an expensive car.’
‘We need to get you out of this work,’ her father continued. ‘Need to get you out of this place entirely if we can.’
By the light of a paraffin lamp the family talked late into the night. The conversation centred on two themes: how to escape their predicament. And how to get Karma back into their lives.
‘We could trek to India,’ Tashi’s mother proposed. ‘Join the Dalai Lama’s community in Dharamsala. Maybe Karma is already there.’
Tashi’s father smiled sadly. He peeled an egg of its shell and passed it to Tashi.
‘Leave our homeland?’ he questioned. ‘You know we’ll never be allowed back.’
‘There’s no guarantees we’d make it across the mountains,’ Tashi said. ‘The passes are high, guarded by troops.’
‘We’d be living off charity for the rest of our lives,’ her father added. ‘I’ve heard there’s no work there.’
‘Maybe things would be better in Lhasa?’ Tashi wondered. ‘Perhaps they don’t hassle people as much there.’
‘And work in a factory?’ her father said. ‘At least here we can see mountains, watch the rivers flow.’
‘And get poisoned,’ her mother added. ‘Don’t forget that.’
The room went quiet. Tashi felt despondent. For a while no one said anything. Then they went to their small family shrine and prayed together for a wh
ile. Tashi brought out her bloodstained photograph of the Dalai Lama, thinking intently about Karma and wondering for the thousandth time where her brother could be.
Her mother prepared more yak butter tea, warming some flatbread on the stove. Finally her father spoke:
‘We should go to the sacred lake of Lhamo La-tso,’ he said. ‘We will find the answer there.’
‘How will a lake help us?’ Tashi asked. She had never heard of the place.
‘It can give visions of the future. It’s to the south of Lhasa,’ her father continued.
Tashi’s mother nodded enthusiastically. ‘When the Regents were looking for clues to divine where the next Dalai Lama could be found, they went to Lhamo La-tso.’
‘They prayed for many days, then saw letters in the waters,’ her father continued. ‘Other clues about a building with turquoise tiles.’
‘When they found the young boy all the clues fell into place,’ her mother said. ‘They would never have found him without that vision.’
Tashi smiled. Her parents’ faith in the power of the lake was touching, but she found it hard to think things could be that simple.
‘You don’t believe us?’ her mother said.
‘Perhaps it can show a vision for the Dalai Lama,’ she answered slowly. ‘But we are not important like him.’
‘The lake will show us the way,’ her father insisted. ‘It might even help us to get Karma back. We should go as soon as possible.’
Tashi signed in sick so that she and her father could set out one week later on the bus journey to the lake. Getting travel papers had proved tricky; bribes were necessary to persuade officials to issue the permit. The trip was hard going, the roads dusty and hot. In total it was twenty hours travelling.
Tashi lost count of the police checkpoints. Roadblocks seemed to be everywhere and they were questioned frequently by the young police recruits who climbed on board the coach.
‘Where are you going?’ they demanded. ‘What is the purpose of your journey?’
‘Pilgrimage,’ Tashi’s father replied serenely. The word normally provoked a sneer from the guards and they would move on to the next traveller.
‘Why are they so suspicious of us?’ Tashi whispered to her father. ‘What exactly do they think we’re doing wrong?’
‘Harassment,’ he replied. ‘The authorities don’t like the thought of Tibetans travelling freely around their own country.’
Tashi’s small travelling bag was searched three times. She blushed as the young guards laughed at her meagre possessions. At one of the checkpoints a guard pulled her hairbrush from the bag and played the fool with it, brushing imaginary locks. Tashi snatched the brush back and quickly zipped the bag up.
‘Just for fun!’ the guard snapped. He pinched Tashi’s cheek hard, his eyes suddenly cold. ‘You should learn how to take a joke.’
Tashi’s father gripped her hand tightly as a warning not to retaliate.
A final overnight bus brought them to their destination. Tashi was dozing when the lake came into view at dawn.
‘Wake up!’ her father urged. ‘We’ve arrived.’
Tashi blinked sleep from her eyes and stumbled stiffly out of the bus. The vehicle pulled away, the rumble of the engine gradually diminishing to be replaced by the gentle play of wind across the lake.
‘Am I still dreaming?’ Tashi said in wonder. Her father smiled contentedly.
The lake was exquisite, the water such a vivid tone of saturated blue it felt like it was filled with melted lapis lazuli. The shores were ringed with snow-capped mountains.
They walked down to the water’s edge, to a small shingle beach. Pilgrims had stacked stones to form cairns and there were many colourful strings of prayer flags fluttering in the breeze.
‘Now you see?’ Tashi’s father gestured proudly, as if he had created the lake himself.
Tashi did see. It was beautiful, by far the most spectacular place the young Tibetan girl had ever seen.
A falcon let out an eerie cry above them. Golden rays of light washed across the scene as the sun rose. Small waves rippled across the lake as a flurry of wind raced to the east. It was mystical, Tashi felt, filled with irresistible magic.
‘And the vision?’ she whispered.
Her father laughed. ‘Not so fast, it’s not like switching on a television. But it will come, you can be sure of that.’
Chapter 5
They walked to a nearby hamlet and paid for a simple room. A hearty breakfast of steamed momos followed, tiny dumplings stuffed with spiced pork. The meal was eaten in the company of other pilgrims from far-flung corners of Tibet. Tashi enjoyed the little details of clothing and jewellery that gave clues as to where they came from.
A friendly discussion began around the table. Tibetans will strike up a conversation with anyone and the pilgrims were keen to share their stories.
Two of the pilgrims – like Tashi and her father – were hoping to see personal visions; others wished to pay their respects to the lake which many years earlier had showed the Regents of Tibet where they could find a two-year-old boy who lived far to the east: Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth Dalai Lama. His connection to the lake gave it a very special power in the eyes of all Tibetans.
‘What shall we do tomorrow?’ Tashi asked her father as they prepared to sleep.
‘Visit the local temples,’ he replied. ‘And pray by the lake.’
His proposal didn’t just cover the following day, it was the pattern for each of the next three days. Mornings in the smoky shrines, adding molten butter to the lamps that glimmered with sacred fire. Afternoons kneeling at the blustery shore of the lake, praying fervently and keeping watch for anything that could be interpreted as a sign.
They made many firm friends but no vision presented itself. Tashi found herself becoming impatient, complaining out loud about the long hours they were spending by the water’s edge, her restlessness finally provoking her father to a response.
‘Nothing will happen unless we are both calm,’ he told her strictly. ‘There must be no anxiety in our hearts.’
Tashi tried to take his advice but it wasn’t easy. Other pilgrims were announcing the wonders they had witnessed on a daily basis yet for Tashi and her father … nothing.
On their final day at the sacred lake, Tashi and her father decided to take a walk around the shore. There was a village about ten kilometres away which would make a good objective for a there-and-back trek.
They left the lodging house at first light, picking a way along the rocky shoreline and keeping a careful eye on the lake for any strange waves or reflections. There was little conversation between them. The failure of the expedition so far had left them both a little depressed and there was a real sense of anti-climax about the journey.
‘It’s going to be bad for Mum if we have to tell her we’ve failed,’ Tashi said. ‘We’ve spent plenty of money apart from anything else.’
‘There is still time,’ her father insisted. ‘Something might yet happen.’
Tashi had to smile at her father’s optimism.
Just before noon they reached their destination, a small settlement of about a hundred inhabitants. They begged some drinking water from a friendly mechanic, took a look around the dusty streets, and got into a confrontation with a pack of not-so-friendly local dogs intent on running them out of town.
They retreated to the lake shore to have a picnic lunch, placing a cloth on the stony ground and laying out boiled eggs, cheese and dried yak meat. The day was hot and humid, the atmosphere heavy with the threat of a thunderstorm. Soon they heard the sound of laughter and a dozen children came down to the lakeside to play.
Tashi and her father watched the children as they ate their lunch. Some of the bolder ones had gone in for a swim. One of them had pushed out from the shore with a small plastic inflatable – a red and yellow d
ragon. He looked confident as he kicked his legs out behind him. The boy was about eight, Tashi guessed.
Suddenly the mood changed. The other children started throwing small stones at the boy, taunting him and calling names.
‘Leave him alone!’ Tashi called.
For a moment she thought to intervene. But the child kicked out of range of the stones and things quietened down.
Tashi and her father finished their lunch and lay back on the rug to take a rest. No sooner had Tashi closed her eyes than a small hand tugged at her wrist.
‘Wake up, miss. Wake up!’
Tashi sat up. A young girl was standing there, a troubled expression on her face.
‘Look!’ she pointed towards the lake.
The boy had floated far from the shore, still clutching his dragon inflatable. He was kicking wildly, going round in circles.
‘Help!’ he cried out. ‘Help please!’
‘What’s his problem?’ Tashi asked.
‘The float has a leak. He can’t swim!’
Tashi got quickly to her feet, blinking in surprise as she saw how quickly the weather had changed: the placid waters of early morning had been whipped away by the wind. Now there were waves, spitting up spray. The sun was suddenly blanked out by dark cloud. Thunder rolled across the mountains.
Tashi ran down to the lakeside. Her father joined her. There were no other adults around so she took off her fleece and her boots.
‘What are you doing?’ her father asked in astonishment.
‘That boy is in trouble,’ she replied.
The children chattered excitedly as Tashi removed her clothes. The boy was still calling, his voice increasingly thin and desperate.
‘It’s sinking! Help me!’
Tashi plunged into the lake, dressed in her underclothes, gasping as the freezing waters embraced her. Fifty strokes took her out to the inflatable dragon. Tashi had always been a strong swimmer. She felt calm and in control. Her body warmed as her muscles tuned into the swim.
By the time she reached the boy he was wild-eyed and desperate. He grabbed Tashi’s arm, astonishing force in his fingers.
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