Thursday, February 5, 7:05 p.m. China Standard Time
Joe Leonard bounded up a series of cascading stone steps and, walking quickly along a terrace, glanced up at the massive building along Beijing Financial Street in central Beijing. His eyes followed the darkly tinted glass all the way down to the China Equity Ltd. sign in red letters hovering just over the entrance. A winter breeze blew across the terrace, and Leonard pulled his coat in tighter. He was thankful this building was only a few blocks from the Ricardo’s Logistics building so it was only a few short minutes’ walk for him. He followed a handful of business men and women into a set of massive revolving doors.
He strode through the revolving door into the lobby, his dress shoes stepping onto thin red carpeting. A series of chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in soft, natural lighting. A small group of men and women had broken off from the main group that had entered in front of him and veered off to the right. Leonard veered with them, following them up a wide stairway with a thick wooden banister, his feet sliding softly on the carpeting.
After climbing three flights, Leonard exited the stairwell. The third floor had been opened up into a small auditorium at the center with an open area tracing a rectangular perimeter around it. A series of hexagonal-shaped columns descended vertically from the ceiling to the floor throughout the open area. The columns, which were made of dark oak, had a multitude of Chinese mythological figures engraved in them.
Leonard made his way through the open area, maneuvering between the columns and around small groups of men and women dressed in business suits and skirts conversing with one another in hushed tones. He proceeded toward a set of double doors constructed with a combination of the same dark oak as the columns and strips of decorative bamboo. The doors had been propped open in anticipation of the attendees. Standing next to the door was a man with salt-and-pepper hair, a business suit, and a stern face. Leonard handed his credentials to the man, credentials given to him by his contact from China Equity. The man examined the paperwork and, satisfied, nodded him through. Once through the door, Leonard slipped quietly into a cushioned seat at the back of the auditorium. He’d made it just in time, Leonard reasoned, as the auditorium was almost filled to capacity.
He had time for a glance at his watch before a man in a black business suit strode into the auditorium from one of the rear doors leading into and out of the auditorium’s ground level. The man approached a small lectern and spoke into a microphone.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the man said in the equivalent Mandarin. “My name is Liu Chuanzi, and I am the Managing Director here at China Equity.” His voice was being filtered softly through a series of small speakers placed throughout the auditorium. Liu waited a moment for the din of conversation to quiet.
“I would like to thank each of you for your presence here this evening. It is quite cold out tonight, and I know you have braved the chilled winds to be here with us. That being said, we believe that you may have a very good return on your time investment with us. Tonight, we have with us Dr. Mu Haoping, one of the leading experts in nanotechnology in all of China. Dr. Mu earned his doctorate degree from the Institut National des Sciences Appliquées in Lyon, France, which is one of the best science and engineering schools in Europe. While his doctorate degree was in chemistry, most of Dr. Mu’s professional work has been completed in the field of nanotechnology.
“As many of you may know, Dr. Mu has spent the past six years working for SinoTech, a state-owned technology company based here in Beijing, as a senior researcher. During his time at SinoTech, Dr. Mu was part of a team working to develop a series of nanotechnology-related applications for use in China’s telescopes and satellites. He continued in this role until this past fall, when he made the difficult decision to resign his position in favor of starting his own company. Dr. Mu’s intent is to leverage his technical knowledge into the manufacturing of nanotech-based products.
“As you all know, Dr. Mu is here today to better explain the specific products he wishes to produce and his proposal for producing and marketing these products in such a way that it will be profitable. Dr. Mu has also requested a question-and-answer session as he would like to answer all your questions as completely as possible. So, without anything further, I would like to introduce Dr. Mu Haoping.”
The room fell silent as a tall, thin man with glasses rose from a seat in the front of the auditorium and strode smoothly to the lectern.
“Thank you, Mr. Liu,” Dr. Mu said, while adjusting his glasses with his left hand. “I also would like to thank all of you for braving the winds to be here tonight. I grew up in Qingdao in Shangdong Province in the northeast where it is very windy in the winter as well, so I understand how uncomfortable the cold winds can be. I’d also like to thank Coching Ziyuan and Shen Kuo for their expertise, encouragement, and overall help with our start-up efforts.” Mu nodded and pointed at two men seated next to his chair in the front row.
“I want to start by briefly telling you a little more about myself, connecting the dots laid by Mr. Liu. I did work for SinoTech for over six years. During that time, I worked on a number of nanotech projects, most of which were coordinated jointly by SinoTech and the Chinese Space Agency. The projects I worked on during my first two years with the firm were ad hoc, but I eventually tended to work on projects that involved nanotubes and their production. This was mostly because I became an expert in nanotubes and their applications and, particularly, the manufacturing process called ADT, or atomic layer deposition. But I will talk about this later.
“I’d like to begin my professional story at the very beginning because it will help you to understand better my qualifications for this new endeavor. I promise I won’t spend too much time on this.” Mu looked up from his notes on the lectern, a slight smile playing across his face.
“I spent the first three years of my career doing nanotech research at China Triumph Nano Systems, which is another small firm that was initially formed by a handful of researchers at Tsingua. They were eventually aided by a handful of engineers, physicists, and other specialists from the RosNano Group out of Moscow. It was from these Soviet engineers that I learned much of what I know about nanotech manufacturing, and I couldn’t have done it without their expertise.”
Expertise. It was the second time Mu had used the word since he’d started his presentation. It reverberated in Leonard’s brain and, as the synapses in his brain fired, it transported him back to a conversation with Jiang Liu two weeks prior. They’d met again at Taoranting Park in central Beijing, where they’d walked while discussing a series of work-related problems. After a while, they’d sat down at a small table underneath one of the many willow trees situated along the trail and throughout the park.
“This park is a place of remembrance for many important intellectuals in China history,” Jiang had said.
It had been a fine winter afternoon in Beijing. The air was cold, but not uncomfortably so. There was a slight breeze, just enough to rustle the branches of the willow tree and a patch of plastic purple and blue chrysanthemums that had been installed along the edge of the central lake. Through the willow’s drooping branches, Leonard could see warmly dressed pedestrians ambling along the paved walkway. They jabbered excitedly as they sidestepped across the occasional patch of snow and ice.
“Is that why you like coming here?” Leonard asked.
A lock of Jiang’s short, dark brown hair fluttered slightly from the breeze. She wore a scarlet blouse underneath her winter coat and the brightness of the color screamed starkly against the ubiquitous browns and grays of the winter landscape surrounding them. Jiang squinted as she considered her response. One thing about Jiang that Leonard appreciated was the thoughtfulness she always placed in her answers.
“Yes, I guess so,” Jiang said. “It’s very peaceful here, too.”
Leonard felt fairly certain this might be one of the few places Jiang went where she was able to find peace.
Jia
ng said, “You remember last time I told you about Shi Pingmei and her tragic life?”
“Yes, of course,” Leonard said.
“Well, there is another woman buried here as well. Her name was Sai Jinhua.”
“Another intellectual?”
Jiang smiled. “No, not quite. Sai Jinhua was much more—” Jiang again struggled for words. “Her life was more difficult even than Pingmei’s, but also more colorful in some ways.”
“What was her story?”
“For most of her life, Jinhua was a prostitute.”
Leonard sensed the difficulty Jiang had in using that expression. He imagined it was because of her own experiences with Shi Sun and, possibly, from the time prior to when she’d met him.
“Why do you say her life was more colorful?”
“She was born in 1872 and lived in Suzhou, a city in eastern China not far from Shanghai, when she was child. She was forced into prostitution when she was thirteen years old after her father died. She had some good fortune when she met Hong Jun, a major Chinese official, when he visited Suzhou. A few months after he met her, Hong Jun made her his concubine and, since his wife wouldn’t travel with him, he took Jinhua with him to Europe. So for five years she traveled all throughout Europe visiting many countries. It happened that—”
As he listened to Jiang’s soft voice, a red crowned crane with a bright scarlet spot on its crest floated down to the ground next to the pathway and began pecking at crumbs of bread that had been left by pedestrians. It meandered toward the willow, stopping to feed only a few feet from Jiang. Jiang had momentarily stopped her story about Jinhua as they watched the bird to see if it would come closer.
“That red on its crest matches your blouse,” Leonard said.
“Oh, yes, I guess it does,” Jiang said as she pulled her coat collar back to look at the bright scarlet cloth.
The bird stared at them for a few moments before it fluttered its wings and flew away out over the lake.
“You were saying?”
“Yes, I was saying that Jinhua traveled throughout Europe, and it happened that, in Germany, she met another man named Alfred von Waldersee who was an important German official at the time. Because of the nature of Hong Jun’s work, she met regularly with many important European officials.”
“I understand,” Leonard said. “Go on.”
“So, after she returned with Hong Jun from Europe, she gave birth to her daughter who she named Deguan. Soon after, Hong Jun died and, since Hong’s family refused to support her, she was forced to go back into prostitution. She started her own prostitution business and, because it was known that she’d had a relationship with a Chinese diplomat in Europe, she became famous. So she continued this in Suzhou and then later in Tianjin and Beijing.
“Eventually, she again met the German official Waldersee because Waldersee had been appointed as commander of the European army that occupied parts of China after the Yihetuan Movement.”
Leonard knew of the Yihetuan Movement. It was known also as the Boxer Movement. It had been a violent uprising in China at the turn of the twentieth century fueled by nationalism and opposition to foreign imperialism and Christianity. Many Chinese fighters had converged in Beijing and began targeting foreigners and Chinese Christians.
Leonard thought back to his earlier meeting with Jiang in the Foreign Legation Quarters. Many foreigners who had been in Beijing at the time had sought protection there. His thoughts were interrupted as Jiang continued her story.
“The legend is that Jinhua renewed her relationship with Waldersee and she was able to exert her influence and convince him to moderate the harsh treatment of Beijing residents by his army.”
“I see,” Leonard said. “So she became an unlikely soldier fighting for the Chinese cause.”
“Yes, something like that,” Jiang said. “But that’s not the point of my story.”
“What was your point then, Jiang?”
“The point I’m trying to make lies in how she lived her life, rather than what she did. You see, after her time with Waldersee, her life was one tragedy after another. She was blamed for the torture of one of her courtesans, charged with the courtesan’s suicide, and sent to prison for it. She then had to use all of her money having the charge reduced to manslaughter and was expelled from Beijing. Her daughter died soon after. She had two more husbands in the following ten years, both of whom died. She just—”
Jiang’s voice was softening. Leonard leaned in closer, listening carefully. “Please go on, Jiang.”
“After the death of her second husband, she lived alone for the rest of her life. Until her death, she was never able to escape her life of prostitution. I just think that she never was able to—” She fought for the right words. “You see, Joe, she just couldn’t ever…find herself. She lived her life like—”
“—like a candle blowing in the wind?” Leonard said.
“Yes, that’s a very good way of putting it,” Jiang said. “And I’m afraid that—” Jiang inhaled a deep, silent breath and she looked him in the eye. “I’m afraid I’m going to end up the same way.”
I’m afraid I’m going to end up the same way.
Jiang’s words hung suspended in Leonard’s mind as he peered at Dr. Mu from his seat in the back of the auditorium. Though he still hadn’t broached the topic of what was happening to Jiang behind Sun’s doors, it didn’t surprise him that she felt a connection with Jinhua.
Dr. Mu was saying, “Nanotechnology is generally defined to consist of the control and restructuring of matter at the nanoscale, which ranges in size from one nanometer to 100 nanometers. A single nanometer is a billionth of a meter.”
Mu clicked the next slide, which contained a photo of a long, thin tube made up of interconnected two-dimensional hexagons.
“This slide is an artist’s depiction of a carbon nanotube. Nanotubes have already been constructed successfully in controlled environments that are less than two nanometers in diameter, which is 50,000 times thinner than a human hair. They have unique properties that allow for the manufacturing of ultra-strong materials, much stronger and lighter than the materials we use in construction today. In the past, the major constraint with these nanotubes was that they are very costly and time-consuming to manufacture. Fortunately, a new process, developed by myself and my colleagues, has solved this problem. But I’ll get into that more in a few minutes.”
Leonard pondered the nanotubes and couldn’t fathom how something so small could be fabricated.
Dr. Mu continued, “The idea of nanotechnology has been around for a long time. It was originally envisioned as far back as 1959 by American physicist Richard Feynman. But the concept wasn’t formalized until the 1980s.”
Leonard’s thoughts of Jiang somehow kept intruding on his concentration on Dr. Mu’s presentation. In particular, they forced him to ponder the relationship between the collections officer and the spy. It was a relationship characterized by an extreme amount of trust placed by the spy on the officer. Over a period of time, it was a relationship that could become extraordinarily close, something akin to the relationship between two soldiers.
Dr. Mu said, “Nanotechnology was originally defined to envision the use of miniature nanomachines to build complex products. This, of course, is incredibly ambitious and nanotechnology has not yet progressed to this point. The current era is still that of passive nanostructures, whereby nanomaterials are designed to perform one task. A simple example of this is nano-engineered polymers and composites that make things super resistant to debris or other ultra-strong objects, themselves resistant to breaking or other damage from environmental factors. The nanotubes are an example of this.”
Mu had brought the next slide on the projector, which was titled “Four Generations of Nanotechnology.”
“The products we would like to make in our firm are mostly passive nanostructures, though we’re also considering a couple of active nanostructures. This, I admit, will be contingent upon being able to re
cruit sufficient expertise.”
Expertise.
Leonard’s thoughts were plunged back to Taoranting Park under the willow tree.
“It’ll be okay, Jiang,” Leonard said to Jiang. “That’s not going to happen to you.”
He squeezed her hand. That seemed to calm her. They watched in silence as a handful of light beige kestrels fluttered down in a pack, landing near the water.
“Joe, regarding your work with Min…” Leonard waited in silence.
“Are you working with others the same way? Here in Beijing?”
Leonard replied, “No. Jin has my full attention.”
She gazed at him in silence for a few moments.
“I don’t believe you, Joe.”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss it,” Leonard said. “I can’t ever speak of this to you again, okay?”
She remained silent. A few more moments passed listening to the warbling of the kestrels.
“May I ask, Jiang, where Sun spends his time outside of work?”
Leonard was ready for Jiang to leverage his refusal to answer her question to avoid answering his. But, if she was considering it, she decided against it.
“Sun is always at work,” she said. “Even when he’s doing something that is supposed to be for leisure, he finds a way to turn it into work.”
“Can you give an example?”
“There are many examples. Sun has guanxi with a network of wealthy businessmen and government officials in Beijing. When he’s not in the office, he’s usually off somewhere with these people, networking or making business deals. He is always looking for people who have expertise that can help expand the company.”
Expertise.
“Where does he go?”
“He often goes to one of the major gaming casinos in the city for poker or mahjong. He spends a lot of time on yachts in Bohai Bay. A couple of his acquaintances own them. He also likes to watch performances.”
“Performances? Like what?”
“Live musical performances such as those you might find in the West. What is it called? Mmmmm—”
The Thought Cathedral Page 22
