Rosie still came down to visit every other weekend when her heavy premed schedule permitted. She would not graduate Stanford until the following June, and her choice of a medical school was predicated on her grades. For as long as she could remember, she had wanted to be a doctor like her famous father.
Luke had always supported her in that ambition, and never pressed her to give him more time than she could comfortably spare from her studies. On the other hand, Luke wasn’t exactly wallowing in free time. Between his work at the aquarium, his graduate studies, and his private research, it was all he could do to find time for a little surfing now and then. His enthusiasm for that pleasure had waned slightly since a fatal white shark attack had taken another surfer off Lover’s Point three months earlier. Luke had seen the surfer’s board on the news. The shark had not only cut the surfer almost in half, it had also taken an identical bite out of his board at the same time. From the width of the bites, one of the biologists at the aquarium estimated the shark at sixteen to eighteen feet long. Luke had no desire to make the acquaintance of that particular fish, so he’d hung up his own board until he could find a safer set of waves farther down the coast.
As far as his Zhou Man research was concerned, Luke had decided that it was time to get the inscription on the marker stone translated. The question remained as to how to accomplish this without either giving away the game or showing his evidence prematurely. To that end, Luke worked up some computer magic. He isolated the Chinese portion of the plaque, which, because it was a rubbing, showed the inscription as white against black, like a photographic negative. He reversed the tones so that the text came out black against white, and then he enlarged and printed the image. After close examination, Luke believed it would be quite impossible for anyone to determine where the text came from, or how it had been executed.
Luke called one of his old Stanford history professors, Dr. Lane, and asked if he could recommend someone who could translate old Chinese texts. He said it was for a paper he was writing. Dr. Lane said he would ask around and get back to him when he had a contact. But he warned Luke not to hold his breath, as real talent in that arena was hardly commonplace.
It was almost a week before Dr. Lane called back with a name. He said that a colleague had recommended one of his star pupils, and as luck would have it, the person in question was working on his second doctoral thesis at Stanford. His name was Dr. Robert Wu, and he was considered a linguistic genius. Dr. Lane said he was told that Dr. Wu could speak, read, and write in nine languages, including Greek and Latin, and that he spoke both Mandarin and Cantonese with equal skill. Dr. Lane gave Luke Dr. Wu’s e-mail address and wished him luck with his paper.
Luke e-mailed Dr. Wu at once, introduced himself, stated his business, and asked for an appointment. Three days later Luke got a response. Dr. Wu wrote that the only time he had marginally free was the following Thursday between two and five in the afternoon. He indicated that he could be found at his office in the language lab. Unfortunately, if that proved inconvenient, Mr. Lucas would have to wait for another six weeks, as Dr. Wu was departing for Taiwan the following morning. Luke wrote back thanking him, and confirming that he would be at the lab promptly at two o’clock on Thursday.
On the appointed day Luke arrived at the lab on campus and asked for Dr. Wu. He was directed back to a tiny office that looked like it had once been a large coat closet. There was a messy pile of books on the desk, many of them left open to marked pages. A leather motorcycle jacket and helmet hung on an old coat rack in the corner, and an open briefcase stuffed with papers sat on the floor beside the desk. But there was no Dr. Wu in sight. Then a voice spoke from behind him and said, “Can I help you find something?”
Luke turned and found he was looking at a fellow who appeared approximately his own age, or perhaps a little older, he couldn’t quite tell. The young man looked as though he might have been Chinese, but Luke couldn’t be certain since the young man was wearing dark glasses and had his black hair tied in a ponytail. He wore crisp tailored jeans, penny loafers sans socks, and a T-shirt that sported the slogan “Will Think For Cold, Hard Cash.”
“Why, yes,” said Luke, “I’m looking for Dr. Wu. I have an appointment.”
The man lifted his dark glasses to the top of his head and smiled. “Well, you’ve found him. What can I do for you?”
Luke smiled. “I’m Charles Lucas. I wrote you last week asking for an appointment.”
“Well, well, so you’re Mr. Lucas.” He smiled again. “Should I address you as Mr. Lucas or Charles?”
“My friends all call me Luke. I hate Charles. My sister calls me Charles when she wants to tick me off.”
Both men laughed and shook hands, and Dr. Wu gestured for Luke to enter the office.
“I hope you’re not claustrophobic. I apologize for the mess, but I have a full plate at the moment. I’m up to my knees in travel nonsense, and I’m still getting ready to leave tomorrow morning. I have a tendency to procrastinate now and then. This time it caught me off my game.” Dr. Wu gestured for Luke to take a seat on an old metal folding chair. He continued. “This isn’t really my office, you understand, I’m just using it while Dr. Heinemann is on sabbatical in Turkey. I don’t know how he handles working here. I know I couldn’t take it for long if I wasn’t so pressed for space at home.” He smiled at a private joke. “So, what can I do for you, Luke?”
Luke reached into his jacket pocket and handed Dr. Wu a folded piece of paper. “Do you think you can translate this for me?” Luke grinned. “Unfortunately, I don’t read Chinese, and I think I need a hand up on this one.”
“I’ll do what I can.” Dr. Wu took the paper, opened it, turned it right-side up and looked more closely, and then he pulled a large magnifying glass from a cluttered desk drawer and looked again. After a few moments he whistled in surprise and looked up. His manner quickly altered from light and conversant to somber and serious. “Just where did you get this text?”
Luke kept as neutral an expression as he could muster. “I found it among some old papers in a steamer trunk. That’s just a copy, of course.”
“I surmised that, but do you have any idea what this says?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be here. But certain other documents I’ve come across lead me to believe it has something to do with a fifteenth-century Chinese admiral named Zhou Man.”
“You can bet hard cash on that, Mr. Lucas. Some of the characters are a little obscure and arcane, to be sure, but in short this appears to be a formal declaration stating that Admiral Zhou Man takes under his protection the lands neighboring someplace called the Bay of Whales. He does so in the name of his Imperial Master, the Emperor Zhu Di.”
Dr. Wu looked up from his reading to explain. “Zhu Di was the third Ming emperor. It was he who commissioned the building of the great treasure fleets that were placed under the command of Admiral Zheng He. Zhou Man was his subordinate, and some say he explored the western coasts of the Americas. I’ve been told there seems to be some evidence for a claim of Chinese presence on the west coast of Mexico. But I wouldn’t know. That’s not in my field exactly. But either way it makes a whopping good story . . . Where did you say you found this again?”
“In an old trunk with some other papers.”
“Was there anything else in that trunk worth mentioning?”
Luke could feel his face redden. He wasn’t really very good at prevarication. “Just some odds and ends, nothing worth mentioning at the moment.”
Dr. Wu smiled. “Not worth mentioning, or not willing to mention? Remember, we Chinese invented inscrutability. But tell me, was there anything else on the same page that you haven’t shown me?”
Luke smiled. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps yes, or perhaps no?”
“Just perhaps.”
Dr. Wu laughed. “Okay, we’ll do this your way and I’ll tell you what else was on that paper, and why.”
Luke grinned, but his expression signaled serious doubt. �
��Really. Do you think you can?”
Dr. Wu leaned back and nodded. “When the various admirals of the treasure fleet discovered something important, they’d mark it with a stone. They commissioned them in all sizes. Admirals like Hong Bao, Zhou Wen, and Zhou Man carried predressed stone plaques of different sizes in the holds of their ships. When they came upon a place of interest or profit, they’d land and explore the surrounding area and possibly set out a marker. Sometimes, on well-traveled routes, they set the larger stones where everyone could find them. Other explorers felt their plaques would be disturbed, so they did something quite unique and very Chinese. They would bury their markers on some prominent piece of ground easily seen from seaward. It’s said that sometimes they also interred an Imperial token of some kind to verify their claim. Then they’d plant and cultivate some long-lived vegetation, preferably cypress trees, over and around the sacred spot. These locations were generally established near the shore where their forestation efforts could be spotted from the sea years into the future.” Dr. Wu smiled with pride. “We Chinese not only invented the compass, the rudder, watertight bulkheads, and fully battened sails, but we also invented living navigational aids.”
Luke appeared slightly incredulous. “Really? How’d they manage that?”
“Simple. The trees and plants they used were all primarily indigenous to China, like the tuberose or the silver cypress, things like that.
“The marker stones were usually carved in three languages, primarily because there were three important elements of those cultures involved in Zheng He’s treasure fleets. The uppermost script was court Mandarin circa thirteen to fifteen hundred. The one below that would be Persian of the same period, and the last is Tamil.”
Luke was more than a little impressed, but he was also confused. “Why Persian? And what’s Tamil?”
Dr. Wu went on. “Ornate, scripted Persian of the period is simply a courtly written form of Arabic. Many of the fleet’s navigators were Arabic. And Tamil, in one form or another, was the common tongue for almost all the coastal populations of southern India and Sri Lanka. So tell me, Mr. Lucas, am I right?”
“Perhaps.”
“Are we back to that?”
“Perhaps.”
“It sounds like you’re bucking to become Chinese.”
Luke smiled. “I don’t have the chops, if you’ll pardon the pun. Besides, my ambitions fall into a different category altogether. But yes, you’re right, or at least I think you’re right.”
“Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing.”
Luke took on a serious tone. “If you don’t mind my asking, Dr. Wu, how do you know all this? I was told you were a linguist, not a historian.”
Dr. Wu sat back and smiled. “I grew up in museums. My grandfather used to be the documents curator for the Chinese Historical Society in California. My father was one of his pupils, and I grew up on stories of Zheng He and his treasure fleets. But to tell you the truth, I liked stories about Chinese pirates better, and believe me, we had some real corkers. One of our most successful pirates commanded an entire fleet of ships, and believe it or not, it was a woman. Her name was Ching Shih. In fact, she ran a very powerful and extensive crime syndicate. Even the mighty triads bowed to her wishes.”
Luke took on a slightly wistful expression. “Yeah, I used to like pirates too. My favorite was Henry Morgan. You don’t find many buccaneers with enough brass to talk themselves out of execution and then become royal governors.”
Dr. Wu grinned. “Maybe not then, but today it’s almost a prerequisite for the job.” Dr. Wu paused, and when he spoke again there was no humor in his voice. “But now I’d like to ask you a serious question.”
“Shoot. I’ll do the best I can.”
“Do you know where this marker stone is now?”
Luke paused for a second and smiled. “To tell you the truth, Dr. Wu, I don’t know where the stone is now. But to even begin a search, and not waste years on fruitless speculation and false claims, one would have to know where the stone isn’t.” Luke shook his head. “I work on the principle of diminishing perspectives. One small step leads to another, and another. Perhaps I’ll get lucky, but as far as I can see, the odds aren’t in my favor at the moment. I’ve hit a dead end for sure, but the maze still presents lots of other possibilities.” Luke shrugged with an air of disinterest. “But for now, I’ve got a master’s program to complete, and after that I’d like to take a stab at a doctorate. Zhou Man’s stone and the mystery of its whereabouts are little more than a speculative avocation right now. I suppose if I should come across a promising lead I would delve into it further. Besides, you were right, everyone loves a whopping good mystery, and this one has real legs from an academic point of view. Don’t you agree?”
“I’m Chinese, for Pete’s sake. Our whole existence is based on unsolved mysteries. As a matter of record, we invented the mystery story. But tell me, Luke, have you spoken about this material with anyone else?”
“No, not even my girlfriend.”
“So you’re going on this quest by yourself?”
“For now, yeah. I don’t dare trust anyone else just yet. Why do you ask?” Luke gave out a curious smile. “You wouldn’t be volunteering yourself by any chance, would you?”
“Of course I’m volunteering. Who could pass up a thing like this? A chance to rewrite history doesn’t come along every day. Besides, you’re going to need someone like me along.”
“And just why is that?”
“Well, unless you think you can master at least three dialects of Chinese in a few months, there’s no reason at all. Besides, you’ve already told me a great deal, and I don’t think you would have done that unless you suspected that I could be trusted. Remember we Chinese love secrets, and I truly believe I can find out a few things that you could not. Especially when it comes to dealing with the natural reticence of my people to answer questions posed by westerners. For instance, have you made any inquiries with any Chinese scholars at the important institutions on the mainland, or anywhere else?”
Luke nodded. “Yes, but the effort hasn’t proved very helpful so far.”
“So who have you contacted so far?”
Luke listed the various museums he’d e-mailed. “You see, I have reasons to suspect that there might have been a plot afoot to secretly return the stones to China sometime around 1906 or ’07. But all the Chinese institutions I’ve contacted say there’s no record that was ever the case. And since you Chinese have a tendency to be meticulous about such things, I’m half persuaded that the stones are still somewhere in California.”
Dr. Wu looked puzzled and surprised. “Stones? You mean there’s more than one?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. There was something else buried with the stone tablet, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that just yet. If you are still interested in putting your oar in the water when you get back from Taiwan, come and see me.”
“Oh, I’m interested. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.” Dr. Wu waved the paper. “I’d like to take this with me if you don’t mind. I’ll be going to mainland China as well, just to visit with relatives, you understand. I might be able to run down a few rabbits while I’m there.”
Luke thought for a moment. “You may borrow the paper if you’ll sign a receipt, but it’s not much good without the rest of the inscriptions. Like I said, if you’re still interested when you get back, contact me.” Luke pulled a business card from his coat pocket. “You can reach me at these numbers. My e-mail address you already have.” Luke noticed the time, rose from his seat, and put out his hand. “I see that it’s getting late, and I’m sure you’ve a lot to do, so I won’t take up any more of your valuable time. Thank you for all your help so far, Dr. Wu. I look forward to hearing from you again.”
Dr. Wu got up, looked at the business card, nodded, and then shook Luke’s hand. “Not at all, quite the contrary. I’ll e-mail you if I stumble over anything interesting while I’m gone. But up, dow
n, or sideways, you’ll be hearing from me again. And by the way, you can call me Robert if you like. Dr. Wu sounds so sentimental.”
Luke laughed at Dr. Wu’s choice of words. “And you can continue to call me Luke. Charles sounds so majestic.”
———
ROBERT WU WAS AS GOOD as his word, and every week or so Luke would get a progress report, which in every case indicated that Robert had come up empty. But it was through these e-mails that Luke discovered his new friend possessed a wonderfully bizarre sense of humor. Whenever Robert visited a noteworthy location, he’d shoot an eight-second video stream of each landmark. In the center of every picture Robert would set up an orange windup toy kangaroo that wore blue boxing gloves. When placed into action the boxing kangaroo would slowly lean forward, and then suddenly leap backward into the air, flipping over and magically landing on its feet once more. To this stunt Robert had added a canned drum roll that ended with a crash of cymbals as the kangaroo successfully completed the trick. The toy’s action, when set against something as austere and serious as the Great Wall, or Tiananmen Square, or the Forbidden City, was intrinsically funny. One or two of these little performances would show up on Luke’s e-mail every week or so. Usually with an accompanying note that just said, “Nothing yet. The mystery grows apace, but I’m hopeful still. All my best, Robert W.”
It was because of the leaping kangaroo that Luke and Robert, for the sake of security, began to refer to the objects of their search as “the toys.” Then, five weeks into his trip Robert sent another e-mail. This time the kangaroo was posed in front of a large stone tablet that was surrounded by ornate carving. The stone was covered with engraved texts that were difficult to make out on the video. Once again there was a drum roll, a leap, and a crash of cymbals. The e-mail simply said, “Look familiar?” Luke wrote back with one word. “Perhaps.” The word “perhaps” had become part of Luke’s code as well. It meant “yes.”
In The Shadow of The Cypress Page 15
