A Rambling Wreck: Book 2 of The Hidden Truth

by Hans G. Schantz

  I got the impression that Dr. Chen’s “family” was a bit more loosely defined than usual.

  “Professor Chen is my nephew,” Mr. Hung began. “You helped him in his work, and you brought him here when he was in danger. We owed you gratitude and thanks but we compounded the debt we owe by treating you poorly. For this, I must apologize on behalf of my family. Please accept this dinner in partial repayment of the debt we owe you.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen,” I replied. “Even in the best families… misunderstandings can arise. You are making amends, and there are no hard feelings.”

  “I appreciate your understanding, Peter,” Professor Chen thanked me. “It is fortunate you learned they were on the way to arrest me, and capture our work. You were very …skillful. Few of my brothers could have performed as well under such challenging circumstances.”

  Mr. Hung said something to Dr. Chen in rapid Chinese. Of course, I couldn’t understand him, but I could swear he’d said “Xueshu Quan.” That was the name of the Circle’s rare book collector. Had I fallen in with allies of my enemy? Mr. Hung must have seen my shock. He jerked his head and glared at me. “Xueshu Quan,” he repeated. “You have heard of Xueshu Quan,” he said, daring me to deny it.

  I was caught. I was also going to have to do a better job on my poker face, but for now I needed to get out of the hole I’d dug myself.

  “A wise man does not speak certain names where they may be heard,” I replied, trying my best to be cryptic and ambiguous.

  Mr. Hung’s eyes narrowed at the implied insult. “You are in the Red Flower Pavilion, surrounded by heroes,” he explained, gesturing at the lavish surroundings of the private dining room. “Here, one may speak forbidden names and hidden truths without fear they will be overheard. How come you to know the name of our enemy?”

  They regarded Xueshu Quan as an enemy? That was a good sign. Or maybe a clever trick to find out where I stood with respect to Xueshu Quan. I knew Xueshu Quan was tied into the Circle somehow and the Circle was after Dr. Chen, but I wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge Xueshu Quan was my enemy, too. Not without more information.

  “Xueshu Quan,” I said neutrally, trying to avoid any hint of intonation or emphasis. “How did you come to acquire so dangerous an enemy? You have said you are in my debt for my service on behalf of Dr. Chen. May I have your answer in partial payment?”

  Mr. Hung looked thoughtfully at me. Then, he nodded at Dr. Chen. “Very well.”

  “Many years ago in Fujian Province, in the southeast of China, there was a monastery,” Dr. Chen began. “For over a thousand years, the monks there studied in secret, learning the mysteries of science, developing arcane technology, perfecting themselves through meditation and discipline, and above all, studying the art and science of war. Their greatest teacher was an immortal, some say a god, who today goes by the name, ‘Xueshu Quan.’”

  “The gamma ray results from Fujian province. They are related to this monastery?” I asked.

  Dr. Chen smiled. “Indeed. The exact site had been lost for centuries. Our brothers in China have been investigating the site since you identified it.

  “It came to pass that foreign invaders attacked China and inflicted serious losses on the Emperor’s finest armies. The Emperor called upon the monks to help defend the nation. The one hundred twenty eight brothers hurried to the imperial palace, where the Emperor offered them whatever men or money they might need. On behalf of the brothers, Xueshu Quan accepted the Emperor’s charge, requesting only fresh horses and food for the warrior monks. They tarried a few days until the timing was auspicious then rode out to attack the enemy.

  “In three months’ time, they had wiped out an army of many thousands, struck deep in the enemy’s country and forced the enemy to pay a vast ransom.”

  “How could a hundred-odd monks prevail against such overwhelming odds?” I asked.

  Mr. Hung took over from Professor Chen. “Know the enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in peril. He who knows when he can fight, and when he cannot shall be victorious. Invincibility lies in defense. The brothers took up a position in which they could not be defeated, and they allowed the enemy to waste their strength.”

  “Like the Spartans at Thermopylae,” I said, nodding.

  “Indeed,” acknowledged Mr. Hung. “But the possibility of victory lies only in attack. So as the enemy withdrew, the brothers skirmished ahead, destroyed the enemy’s camp, and captured the enemy’s treasure. The enemy soldiers lost the will to fight, and the brothers spent months chasing and harassing them back to their country.

  “But it was the brothers’ learning that made their warlike skill so effective. They used their art of divination to find and foretell the… the ‘turning points.’ Places where critical people and crucial decisions can alter destiny, where the will of Heaven is revealed.”

  I felt a chill run up my spine. “A Nexus,” I offered. These ancient Chinese monks had Nexus Detectors?

  “Nexus,” said Mr. Hung, eying me suspiciously. “Yes. That’s a good way to describe it. A Nexus. The monks found each Nexus and got there first, striking swiftly as a falcon strikes its target. Time and again, they broke the back of the enemy for they always knew the perfect moment to strike.”

  “I see. But if they had such power, what became of them?”

  “The Emperor was grateful, for the warrior monks had saved the nation,” Dr. Chen explained. “The Emperor offered whatever rewards were in his power to bestow, but the monks wished only to resume their studies. Before the brothers left the court to return to their monastery, the Emperor insisted on bestowing three gifts: the first, a tablet inscribed ‘Imperial Favor, Kindness, and Honor,’ the second, a scroll proclaiming the monks ‘First in Bravery, Matchless Heroes,’ and the third, a scroll stating ‘It was not by learning that they got to court, through warlike skill they saved the Emperor.’

  “Xueshu Quan, however, was not content to resume life teaching the monastic scholars. He elected to remain at court. The Emperor showered gifts upon Xueshu Quan and made him general of all the armies. Now despite all his wealth and power, Xueshu Quan was angry, for he had hoped to lead the brothers to overthrow the Emperor and take the throne for himself. The monks were not interested in worldly power, however. They were devoted to their studies, and they had returned to their monastery. Xueshu Quan knew that he had taught the brothers too many of his secrets, and while the brothers lived, he could not hope to overthrow the Emperor and maintain his power for long.

  “So, Xueshu Quan bided his time until the Emperor had begun to forget the service the warrior monks had done for him. Then, Quan whispered in the Emperor’s ear that none could stand against the warrior monks – which was true – and that the brothers were a threat to the Emperor – which was a vicious lie. The Emperor took Xueshu Quan’s advice and assembled his army in secret, dispatching it to the monastery. The Emperor’s army surrounded the monastery, burning it down, but five of the monks escaped with the order’s most sacred scrolls and relics.

  “The surviving brothers led a revolt against the Emperor and his secret advisor, Xueshu Quan, but they were too few, and they ultimately failed. The brothers exchanged signs that they and their successors would know each other, and they vowed to come together again when the time came to overthrow Xueshu Quan, the teacher who betrayed them.

  “Many of our brothers have now forgotten our sacred mission,” continued Mr. Hung, “but we remember. Among our brothers are scholars like Dr. Chen who seek to understand and recover the secrets we have lost.”

  “Xueshu Quan,” I said. “You said he was an immortal teacher. Today’s Xueshu Quan is the same being?”

  “Indeed,” said Dr. Chen. “He uses different names in different ages. He remained behind the scenes in the Imperial Court for over a century, but without the Brotherhood to support him, he had difficulty acquiring power and controlling events. The Brotherhood lost track of him during the Opium Wars as the po
wer of the Imperial Court began to fail. Apparently he somehow removed himself to England.”

  “The signs in England,” I observed as pieces of the puzzle began tumbling into a coherent whole.

  “Indeed,” Dr. Chen acknowledged. “We believe at some point Xueshu Quan realized the trajectory of the West would overtake that of China, and so he came to England to better control events.

  “And now Xueshu Quan operates out of Jekyll Island,” I concluded.

  “We believe so. His associates have operated from there since colonial days. He transferred himself there in the 1890s. He hides behind the scenes,” Dr. Chen agreed. “But that is clearly his current base. He remains at a distance from the center of power, yet exercises control through his associates.”

  Just then the waiters brought in dinner – a dozen dishes placed on the rotating center of the table. We served ourselves as the waiters withdrew again.

  “His… ‘associates,’” I began. “How much do they know about Xueshu Quan?” I asked.

  “Very few know that name,” Dr. Chen explained. “He uses it rarely, almost on a whim. Lately, he has used it when posing as a collector of antiquities and rare books, as he who secures forbidden knowledge and hidden truths. He has other names he uses elsewhere. His is a name you would be wise to keep to yourself lest he hear you.”

  He who must not be named? OK. “And he provides his secrets, like his art of divination, to his associates to aid them in their missions on his behalf,” I offered.

  Dr. Chen and Mr. Hung looked gravely at each other.

  “You know more than you should. You used the name earlier,” Dr. Chen said gravely. “His minions employ divination to alter destiny and shape history to serve their ends.” I was beginning to think I had revealed too much.

  “You obviously know far more about Xueshu Quan than is safe or proper for one outside the Brotherhood,” Mr. Hung said intently. “Now you will tell us how it is you came to know our enemy.”

  I could hear a veiled threat behind Mr. Hung’s words. He and Professor Chen had offered their secrets, it was only fair that I exchange a few of my own.

  “Very well,” I agreed.

  “I came across the name in a bookstore in Houston, Texas, last year,” I explained. “A girl named Nicole gave me a secret list of books sought by this Xueshu Quan. I looked into the books on the list. Xueshu Quan found out. They killed Nicole and her boss.”

  “Mr. Rodriguez,” Mr. Hung said.

  “Yes,” I confirmed, wondering how he was so well informed.

  “So, you were an associate of the late Jim Burleson?” Mr. Hung asked.

  How the hell… Jim Burleson was my father’s friend. He’d been fingered as the culprit behind my research and killed. I forced my face into a neutral expression and said levelly, “It appears you, too, know far more than you should of my own secrets.”

  I saw the lightbulb turn on for Dr. Chen. “Burdell. This Burleson had an associate named Roy Burdell.”

  “My father,” I acknowledged. “So you see, your enemy is also my enemy. I have sworn vengeance against Xueshu Quan and his associates who killed my father, and my mother, and countless others. Xueshu Quan’s agents used their Nexus Detector to find our house.”

  Mr. Hung appeared to relax, slightly. “You are lucky to have learned such secrets and still be alive.”

  Rob taught me that the enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend. Of course that was the lesson he kept emphasizing when he was doing his best to keep me from figuring out he was the mysterious third party who burned down the old Tolliver Library. And my enemy was powerful. I needed allies. Like Dr. Chen and his “brothers.” Was this another moment of decision? A turning point? A Nexus? Perhaps not, because my best course of action seemed obvious.

  “I appreciate your honoring me with your secrets,” I acknowledged. “I am prepared to offer you some of mine in in hopes you may be able to make use of them against our mutual foe.”

  “What secrets do you have to offer?” Mr. Hung asked.

  “I can confirm that Xueshu Quan is allied or associated with the Civic Circle,” I offered.

  I saw Dr. Chen lift an eyebrow in surprise. “We had suspected as much,” Mr. Hung agreed. “Your evidence for this connection?”

  “Mail to Xueshu Quan is collected by a woman who works in the same building occupied by The Civic Circle in Arlington, VA,” I offered. “And my Uncle is a junior member of the Civic Circle. When the associates of Xueshu Quan realized the connection, they became… less aggressive in investigating my connection to Xueshu Quan’s secrets.”

  “I see,” Mr. Hung acknowledged.

  “What is your evidence for the connection?” I asked.

  “The Civic Circle arose from meetings of the rich and powerful on Jekyll Island more than a century ago,” Mr. Hung pointed out. So they knew about that connection, too. “They still meet there, every few years, to set the course and direction of their plans.”

  “Indeed.” I was learning more about my enemy in a few minutes than I had been able to uncover in months. We’d been exchanging minor facts. I was coming to trust Mr. Hung. It was time to up the stakes and offer Mr. Hung something more significant, in hopes of him reciprocating with something of comparable value.

  “Your tattoo,” I gestured to Dr. Chen. “It is a symbol of your Brotherhood?”

  “The taijitu, the ‘yin-yang’ sign, it denotes the dualism of the Tao, or the way,” Dr. Chen explained.

  “But your version is slightly different from the usual,” I noted. “You tilt it at an angle and have a single line running across it. That particular version in your tattoo is the original as taught by Xueshu Quan to the Brotherhood, is it not?”

  Mr. Hung narrowed his eyes. Dr. Chen looked puzzled but agreed, “Yes. It is said to have been taught by Xueshu Quan.”

  “But, the secret meaning has been lost,” I said confidently.

  “It denotes the dualism of the Tao,” Dr. Chen reiterated. “And the line indicates the straight and true path to the center, the point of harmony.”

  “It denotes the dualism of the electromagnetic field,” I explained. “In radiation, there is an equal balance of electric and magnetic energy. When one disrupts the balance, one creates an excess of one field or the other. The act of making one field creates the other, and the balance is restored. A changing electric field makes a magnetic field, and vice versa. The taijitu is what electrical engineers call a “Smith Chart.” The line is the axis of real power transfer, and the center point denotes the characteristic impedance of free space – where the fields are in balance and propagate as a pure electromagnetic wave. Your symbol is not a mystic metaphor. It is a physical diagram of the electromagnetic impedance for a dipole.”

  I explained to Dr. Chen how I calculated the impedance of a dipole from Schelkunoff’s equations and plotted it on a Smith Chart to derive the Brotherhood’s sacred symbol. Apparently physicists don’t use Smith Charts, because he was unfamiliar with the concept. Another deliberate misdirection by Xueshu Quan? Dr. Chen may not have seen a Smith Chart before, but he caught on quickly.

  “The Supreme Polarity…” Dr. Chen said, his voice full of awe and wonder, “it’s a dipole.”

  “Exactly,” I confirmed. “Your ancient writings do not describe a mystic philosophy. In their original version, they are a primer of physics, disclosing physical principles not discovered by Western science until the last couple of centuries – principles that, in some cases, Xueshu Quan will keep secret by killing those who threaten to disclose them. Maxwell, Hertz, and Fitzgerald all died in their prime before they could complete their work. Heaviside and Lodge were suppressed and distracted. Later scientists who began down the path of truth like Ettore Majorana vanished under mysterious circumstances.”

  “This is all true?” Mr. Hung asked Dr. Chen.

  “I think so,” Dr. Chen confirmed. “I will need to double check the details against our surviving fragments of the scrolls to be sure. He’s give
n me much to think about.”

  “You know too many secrets,” Mr. Hung observed. “You have told us many things that Xueshu Quan would never disclose. It is good you are so clearly an enemy of Xueshu Quan. We can respect a son’s vow to avenge his father’s death.” He said something to Dr. Chen in Chinese.

  Dr. Chen pulled a small dictionary from his pocket. “Filial piety,” he translated. “Respect for one’s parents, elders, and ancestors.” He replaced the dictionary. “It is a fundamental principle in our philosophy.”

  “Honor thy father and thy mother,” I replied. “It is a fundamental principle with us as well. If I were not an enemy of Xueshu Quan?” I asked.

  “Why then, the two brothers outside the door would kill you,” Mr. Hung explained matter-of-factly. “It would be quick and merciful, in light of the service you have rendered our order, but our vows to keep our secrets and destroy Xueshu Quan and his supporters transcend even the service you have performed on behalf of Dr. Chen.

  He was deadly serious. I suppressed a chill and remained impassive.

  “As it is, we are now even deeper in your debt. You have faced peril to bring my nephew, Dr. Chen, back safely to our family. We answered your questions about our Brotherhood and we will trust you with our secrets as you have trusted us with yours. We will ensure your safe return for your service to Dr. Chen. We have offered our hospitality,” he gestured at the feast the three of us had barely eaten, “to repay our poor treatment of you on your arrival. Now, you have unbalanced the scales again by showing us the meaning of our own secrets. You must allow us to repay the debt.”

  “I need a letter.” I explained to Dr. Chen how Professor Graf was in danger, and how I stood ready to protect her.

  “Indeed,” he agreed. “I will write such a letter to help you persuade her.”

  I thought as Dr. Chen wrote. I had a favor I could call upon. By now, I was sure Amit would be up in Knoxville to look after Professor Graf. That appeared under control, and I hated the thought of squandering the favor Mr. Hung’s family owed me if I didn’t need it.