China Dolls

by Rob Wood

  Hu’s initiative broke with the Army’s old caste system. He made it possible to recruit officers from outside the military academies and reward merit demonstrated within the ranks. That was important to Cao.

  Hu’s initiative also had brought with it an awareness that Mao’s reliance on overwhelming numbers was no way to prosecute a modern war or fight internal threats to the party. One had to substitute guile for brute strength.

  Information. It was Cao’s specialty. Information and its manipulation. There was the information you learned about others, and the information you learned about yourself.

  First, he had learned that those things despised by the Cultural Revolution—condominium villas, cars, money, women—were, in fact, the things that most mattered to him.

  During the Cultural Revolution, his parents—one an actor, one a musician —had been harried from pillar to post, sent to one remote location after another. He had felt the contempt of the Revolutionary committees because his parents were elites. He had felt the contempt of village children because his parents could not farm or milk or sharpen blades.

  His parents had always taught him that he was born for greatness. They had said that the present moment was a season of adversity that would pass. Despite the monumental odds, a person such as Cao Kai could achieve greatness. This was possible in a China that had been wrested away from a royal family and a landed gentry. All that was required was that he engage in dogged effort and careful preparation. He could do that. He had learned this about himself.

  He had, by the by, also learned to sharpen blades and to use them. He found that he enjoyed that. There was something exquisite in inflicting pain. It was always, in his mind, directed at those that had held him and his family in contempt. It erased some of the hatred. It was the same solace that his parents had found in the arts.

  Death itself, however, was a mere commonplace. Moreover, it was of no particular use in defending the new China. Although the national defense budget, focused on arms, increased by double digits each year, it was money unwisely spent, he thought. He believed that the People’s Republic was correct in defining terrorism as a family of “Three Evils”: ethnic separatism, religious fundamentalism, and terrorism itself. He thought the country was right to strike hard at the three evils. That required information. And information required his services.

  He sighed deeply and again ran his hand through his hair. Given his service to the country, he was severely under-compensated. And that was particularly galling in view of the present circumstance.

  10

  LOULAN BEAUTY

  There was a deep, sonorous rumble from the belly of the aircraft. The F/A-18 Super Hornet shuddered as its two GE-built engines ramped up, each capable of more than 20,000 pounds of thrust. With its distinct caret shaped inlet, the fighter looked like a shark with twin fins. Armed and ready, loaded out with more than 13,000 pounds of Sidewinder missiles, 20 mm ammunition for its nose cannon and other ordnance on eleven weapons stations, this was one mean mother.

  And yet the evening was nothing if not serene. The USS Vinson cut through lazy Pacific waters, on a course that, mission-completed, would eventually take it home to Newport Beach, Virginia. The water was dark. Stars danced in an inky sky. The Vinson was running night air ops, a complex ballet that resembled the mating of cannibal wasps, in that it was done very carefully. If you think braking a G-force capable fighter and landing on a bobbing steel shingle can be difficult, think about doing it at night!

  A yellow-shirted sailor snapped a smart salute to the pilot and, in a bone-shaking blast, the ship’s catapult shot the Super Hornet into the night sky. The air quivered in its wake. About 45 seconds later, the whole complex sequence happened again. Hundreds of sailors and dozens of aircraft moved about the deck, part production line, part ballet. There were many sailors, wearing different colored jerseys to identify theirs jobs: red for ordnance, purple for fuel, yellow for plane captains. The Navy is no stranger to multi-tasking.

  Beneath the deck, hundreds more sailors crisscrossed a labyrinth of passageways, each numbered and lettered in a system that told how far the p-way was from the hangar deck. Some sailors were on duty call, others were in classrooms, working on advanced degrees under the tutelage of professors, both Navy and civilian, who had shipped out with the Vinson.

  In her cabin, Cody Cochrane was looking at a corpse.

  Sharp nose. High cheekbones. Red hair. “You’re kidding me!” Cochrane said aloud.

  The skin was hard and smooth like a kiln-fired ceramic. The tight line of compressed lips seemed pursed in thought. Hollows beneath the brow suggested eyes shut tight, as if the mind were focused on some difficult problem.

  “She’s beautiful,” Cochrane said to herself. There it was on her computer screen. And, she reflected, this was the second corpse in a matter of hours to figure in her service to China Team. This one was, however, 3,800 years old. Old as the Abraham of the Old Testament. It was a woman, and she was on display in Xinjiang and extremely important to the nine-million-member separatist movement there.

  What connected this human artifact of the past to the current aspirations of an oppressed people? The Uighurs had seized on the corpse as evidence that they, not the Han Chinese, had first settled Xinjiang, near the Tarim Basin. It was important proof that Xinjiang was their country—not China’s.

  The mummified corpse, incredibly well preserved by the desiccating winds of the Taklamakan Desert, indicated that the very first people to settle the area came from the west, down from the steppes of Central Asia, perhaps across Europe or points west. They did not come from the Chinese interior, as the Beijing government asserted.

  And the corpse looked like a Uighur, not a Han. It was a woman with high cheek bones, fair hair, and long eyelashes. She wore felt clothes of exotic design. She was so beautiful, many asserted she must have been an aristocrat in a kingdom long since swallowed up by the desert. Many Uighurs argued that this corpse, and others like it, found around the Tarim Basin, were evidence that Xinjiang had belonged to the Uighurs before there was a modern China. All peoples have origin stories. The Celts and Saxons, the native Americans. Rarely does proof emerge that vindicates the legend.

  Cochrane noted that a modern, nationalistic pop song in Xinjiang praised this Uighur aristocrat of the past. A song to a mummy! Cochrane shook her head, amazed. Moreover, popular poetry and urban legend suggested that she one day would return. They called her Loulan Beauty.

  “Loulan,” mused Cochrane. “Where have I heard that name before?”

  11

  OFFER, COUNTER-OFFER

  Usually Colonel Cao sprawled carelessly over Lily’s Ligne Roset couch as if he owned it. Now he was sitting almost straight. It was an unexpected suggestion of formality in a man who liked to advertise his intimacy with the actress. For a long time now, he had found her intractable, mysterious, and unmanageable.

  “Colonel, “Lily said to him reasonably, “the Zhang companies are very successful . . . but $20 million is a lot to ask for!”

  “Sweetie,” he said, “I just have your best interests at heart. There’s a lot of money to be made here.”

  “I have always done well investing on my own, Colonel,” Lily eyed him coolly.

  “True enough. You’ve been very shrewd. But this is the opportunity for genius! China is the world’s largest consumer of agricultural and energy commodities. It follows that our economists would know more about the pattern and predictability of commodities markets than anyone else. Their expertise is shared only with those in government with a need to know or, in this case . . .” He smiled. “A desire for profit.”

  “What commodity specifically do you have in mind?”

  “Given the overheated state of our economy, inflation alone dictates that we bet on rising prices. And oil—oil is an especially interesting story.” He rubbed his palms together as if he were about to sit down to a particularly delicious meal. “It will be possible for us to buy barrels for delivery a
number of months out—futures contracts. We will be able to buy at the margin. In other words, on credit, so that we don’t have to put up 100 percent of the contract price. What we agree to pay will be covered—along with a tidy profit—when, as our economists predict, the price rises in the future.”

  “Lots of people go broke betting on economists’ predictions,” Lily said flatly.

  “Consider,” Cao countered, “how much of the oil market is influenced simply by China’s imports of diesel for power generation. Who do you think makes those decisions?”

  “I’m only a woman,” Colonel,” Lily smiled a thin smile, “but I’m vaguely familiar with the futures market.” Lily narrowed her eyes. “Sufficiently familiar to know that only a handful of state-controlled oil companies are licensed to import crude into China or to participate in overseas exchanges like Europe’s Intercontinental Exchange or the New York Merc.”

  “The Shanghai municipal government aims to relaunch a crude contract on the Shanghai Futures Exchange this year—with level playing field access to all comers,” Cao protested.

  “That’s rumor and wishful thinking,” Lily snapped. “Beijing shut down trading in the ‘90s because of out-of-control speculation and questionable practices. I don’t see them wanting to get back in now when the floor is likely so much higher.”

  “Well, it appears we have a difference of opinion here. So, let’s leave oil for another time, a future time. There are other commodities: rice, corn, rapeseed.”

  “Twenty million dollars’ worth?”

  “The spread between our purchase price and the enhanced futures price may be small. But, multiplied over millions of dollars of individual contracts….” He lifted his hands in a gesture that signaled all things are possible. “My desire is to go in with an investment of appropriate critical mass to ensure a payout that will produce a comfortable retirement for Colonel Cao.”

  “I still don’t see how I benefit,” said Lily. “I could do this on my own.”

  “No!” he replied vehemently. “No, you couldn’t. My sources of market information are privileged. You would benefit from knowing what contract to buy and when to buy it. And I remind you—news out of China moves markets. Western journalists are always complaining that the Xinhua News Agency is a government puppet. I’m just proposing that we let the puppet work for us.”

  Did Cao Kai really want $20 million to buy rice contracts? Lily had her doubts.

  She pursed her lips, thinking. As she had done in the past, she found it helpful to look past Cao and take in the city panorama behind him. The blanket of Beijing smog stopped several floors beneath them. From her perspective, it was a clear, beautiful day.

  “Colonel,” she said almost in a whisper. I need to change the subject.” She turned a moist, innocent, doe-eyed stare on him. “I have fears. And it’s not that I’m not interested in your proposition, it’s that for the moment, I cannot focus because of my own apprehension.”

  “What is it you are afraid of?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “I am afraid for my safety as a woman.” Her eyes found his. “Are you familiar with the term stalking?”

  “In China? That’s ridiculous,” Cao spat. “No one would dare.”

  “No doubt,” Lily reasoned with him. “But as you know, I am known internationally. Those who eddy about me—paparazzi, eager producers, fans—they are not all Chinese. I would like to know better who they are. Who is in the audience at a press conference? Who is asking for an autograph? Who is meeting with me and my film company? Who is coming here to my home?”

  “You know I look out for you.”

  “I want you to redouble your efforts. Who are these people? Someone might be a criminal, a thief, a murderer in a past life. “

  “Lily, really!”

  “Colonel, it’s important . . . to me. A little help with research and I would be much in your debt.”

  “Twenty million dollars’ worth?”

  “There is no price you can put on equanimity.”

  Cao hesitated, then said, “We can sweep for prints and biological indicators in your apartment, your business offices, and at photo-ops. We’ll know who’s been where and what they’ve done at any time in the past, in so far as that is humanly possible.”

  “Just let me know when you will begin,” said Lily. “If I can regain my peace of mind, I am sure I can think more clearly about a stake in your investment.”

  12

  THE HUMANITARIAN

  The Vinson was again in international waters, though still close to China, when contacted by the U.S. consulate in Hong Kong. They asked if the ship would again work to further improved relations with the Chinese by allowing a humanitarian visit by Dr. Chunlin Shao, director of the Institute of Radiation Medicine at Fudan University. He wished to inspect their radiation victim. And by the way, would the Vinson kindly refuel the university chopper for the return trip?

  “Hard to say, ‘No,’ to universities with humanitarian intentions,” groused the XO. “But now we gotta give ‘em fuel, too! Chances are those monkeys in the consulate never bought a gallon of their own.”

  “How the heck did the Chinese even know we’d picked up that floater?” asked Purdy.

  “Well, we did officially notify the Japanese,” noted Simmonds. “Maybe there was an information leak . . . or maybe researchers in Fukushima and China are on good terms. China’s president Hu did wire Tokyo to express his condolences, and China has offered to help with clean-up.”

  “Good relations between China and Japan? Open the books on Daiichi? How likely would you say that is?” asked Cochrane sarcastically.

  “I wouldn’t have bet money on it,” said the XO. “None of us would. But I do know we have an incoming chopper. It would be appropriate for China Team to stand to for meet and greet.” He snapped a salute and stomped off.

  “XO doesn’t seem at all happy,” said Purdy.

  “Well, aren’t you the psych master!” Cochrane winked at him. “I thought you only got warm, sensitive and intuitive around a certain nushu-reading actress. Didn’t she want to play ball with you or something, Lieutenant?”

  Simmonds chuckled.

  “Give it a rest, Cochrane.” Purdy said, exasperated.

  Cochrane returned to her cabin to review another issue brief from OPNAV. This time, it was a look back on China’s economic potential as a threat to the U.S.

  “The rise of China from a poor, stagnant country to a major economic power within a timespan of little more than a quarter century is a remarkable success story in market economics.

  “From 1979 when economic reforms were first introduced at the behest of Deng Xiaoping, China’s real gross domestic product (GDP) has grown at an average annual rate believed to exceed nine percent. The size of its economy increased over 11-fold, its real per capita GDP grew over 8-fold, and its world ranking for total trade rose from 27th to 3rd.

  “The emergence of China as a major economic superpower has raised concern among many U.S. policymakers. Some believe that China will overtake the United States as the world’s largest economy in less than 20 years. In this context, China’s rise is viewed as America’s relative decline. With Chinese economic ascendancy comes Chinese hegemony across the world. U.S. influence is likely to decline as a result. Diplomatic initiatives will become more difficult. America may become in the future what Britain, France, and Spain seem to some today: dowager states that are relics of their former selves.

  “Another concern is the large and growing U.S. trade deficit with China, which has risen from $10.4 billion in 1990 to more than $250 billion, and is viewed by many as an indicator that China will use any means to achieve its ends. These include unfair trade practices, cheap currency, and subsidies to domestic producers to flood U.S. markets with low-cost goods and to restrict U.S. exports. Such practices are seen to threaten American jobs, wages, and living standards. Many warn that this situation will get worse as China increasingly moves toward production and export of mor
e high-value products. China has this ability. Recently it outfitted a scientific expedition to Antarctica. Everything on that mission: from the steel in the icebreaker, to the sophisticated technology, to the scientists themselves was made in China. No other nation has that capability.

  “There is, however, a counter view. That is that China’s economic rise has led to improved growth in U.S.-China economic relations. Total trade between the two countries has surged from $4.9 billion in 1980 to more than $350 billion. For the United States, China is now its second largest trading partner, its fourth-largest export market, and its second-largest source of imports. Inexpensive Chinese imports have increased the purchasing power of U.S. consumers. Many U.S. companies have extensive manufacturing operations in China in order to sell their products in the booming Chinese market and to take advantage of low-cost labor for exported goods. And, of course, China’s purchases of U.S. Treasury securities have funded federal deficits and helped keep U.S. interest rates relatively low.

  “Threat or opportunity? China remains a puzzle and opinions are divided according to self-interest.”

  Already it had been a long day. Cochrane was experiencing what she called her MEGLO response, for “my eyes glaze over.” Then the chatter of rotor blades announced the arrival of the helicopter. Suddenly energized, she jumped up and ran to join Simmonds, Purdy, and Partridge on the helipad.

  The chopper was, according to Purdy, some variant of the HC-120 Colibri jointly developed by France, China, and Singapore. This one sported auxiliary fuel tanks and a fresh coat of paint that gleamed white with a big green cross and the words ‘Fudan University Institute of Radiation Medicine’ in Chinese characters and English script. The machine was darn near perfect: no scuffs on the landing skids, no elliptical shadows around the engine exhaust ports.