INCARNATION (26 page)

Sinkiang Province, Western China

O
n the journey back, everything seemed changed. The road, the rocks, even the bleak and isolated checkpoint at Ghez all looked different, as though a world had ended, and they were driving back through another one that had taken its place. They spoke very little, but from time to time they would look at one another before turning back to the road. It had grown oppressively hot.

‘We only found that one Snow Lotus,’ said Nabila. ‘You were very observant.’

David changed gear. ‘Just lucky. Till today, I thought luck had deserted me.’

‘So, you think finding me was like finding a Snow Lotus, a matter of luck?’ 

‘Not luck exactly, but ...'

'Watch out for that pothole.’ They swerved. 

‘I don’t believe in chance,’ she said. 'I believe God writes our fates. I believe my meeting you was destined. Don’t you feel that?’ 

‘I think my whole life was just a preparation for it, but I don’t think it was written down.’ 

‘You don’t believe in God?’

‘Not like you, no. Aren’t you afraid God will be angry with you for making love to me?’

‘Perhaps. My father would be even angrier if he knew.’ She turned her face to him. ‘David, you must be careful. If my father wanted you killed, he could do it at the snap of a finger.’

It was a sombre thought, and one that briefly overclouded them. But not even the threat of an angry ahun could spoil what they had found. As they came within sight of the outskirts of Kashgar, David drew the jeep in to the side of the road and kissed her. It was a long kiss, and both knew it might be their last for some time.

‘I want to go to the hospital,’ said Nabila as they drove off again. ‘I’d like to leave what we’ve collected in the dispensary with Dr Khalla. And I want to give you some more medicine. And - oh, yes - I’d like to introduce you to other members of staff.’

Seeing the look of alarm on his face, she put a hand out and stroked his cheek.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Just a general chat, then I’ll whisk you off.’

‘Is it really necessary?’

‘We can’t have you drifting in and out of the hospital like a ghost, can we?’

Little concrete houses began to congregate on both sides of the road. They’d been thrown up in the sixties and seventies to provide cheap housing, in the process building a cordon of misery around the medieval city.

‘Home,’ Nabila said.

‘How quaint.’

‘Have you noticed something, David?’

‘I’m driving beside the most beautiful woman in the world.’

‘No, look again.’

He looked round and caught sight of a PLA jeep parked on a corner. In it, two tired-looking soldiers were surveying the cheerless landscape and eating noodles. ‘Army,’ David said.

‘Observant of you. The point is, they usually keep off the street in Kashgar. There are fewer Chinese here than anywhere else in Sinkiang. Something’s going on.’

Ten minutes later, they were walking through the front door of the hospital. The calm orderliness that had characterized the place the day before had gone, to be replaced by bustle bordering on controlled panic. White-coated members of staff were hurrying up and down the corridors, bumping into one another or weaving more skilfully past. Patients stood about in clusters outside their ward doors, talking animatedly, or hovered at the edges alone, as though waiting for some sort of doom to descend.

Nabila made several attempts to grab hold of passing colleagues, but each time she was brushed aside, not always gently. Then she saw someone she knew well disappearing down a side corridor, towards the children’s ward.

‘Elyashar!’ she called out, pitching her voice to reach him above the hubbub. He hesitated, looking round, then caught sight of her and ran to where she was standing. Elyashar was a thin, bearded man in his early forties, a head or two taller than David. Little spectacles twinkled on a thin nose that he scratched repeatedly. Two tufts of hair that could not be controlled stuck out at either temple, and his eyebrows seemed to be leaping off his head in terror.

‘Nabila - where on earth have you been? I’ve been looking for you since twelve o’clock. You were supposed to do a paediatric clinic for Dr Salan.’

‘I left a message about that. Didn’t you get it? I went out to Karakul. We were looking for Snow Lotuses.’

‘We?’

She introduced him to David.

‘Elyashar Mehmeduli, the hospital taskmaster. Elyashar, this is Dr Ruzi Osmanop, from Alma-Ata. He’s come to look at some of our work on the antidepressant properties of Hypericum.’

They shook hands, then Elyashar turned back to Nabila.

‘Your message is probably still waiting on my desk. There’s been a bit of a panic on for the past few hours.’

‘So I can see. What’s up?’

Elyashar realized they were trying to make themselves heard over an impossible din.

‘The paediatric records office is just down here,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we go there?’

Squeezing past a group of patients dressed in thin towelling robes - lime green, pink, powder blue, and white - they found a door bearing the one word "Records".

Inside, it was stifling hot, but mercifully quiet. In front of them stood a long desk, and behind it row upon row of steel filing cabinets.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Nabila again, the moment the door was closed.

‘You mean, you don’t know?’ Elyashar looked genuinely surprised.

‘I told you, we were out at Karakul. That’s where we got these plants - which will have to be put in the refrigerator soon if we want to keep them.’

‘Sorry, I forgot. Everything’s in such a muddle. Look, the authorities announced fresh restrictions just before twelve o’clock, three ...‘ He glanced at his watch. ‘Yes, three hours ago. There’s to be a curfew in Kashgar from eight o’clock tonight. What’s worse, no one’s to go out of the city. After seven, nobody gets in either.’

‘What? No one?’

Elyashar nodded glumly.

That’s not all. The airport’s been closed until further notice. All travel south of the Taklamakan has been banned. Any foreigners in Kashgar or any of the oasis towns to the east have to travel direct to Urumchi tonight.’ 

‘Why all this panic in the hospital?’ asked David. 

‘That all started about an hour ago. We’re trying to cool it down. A rumour got out that there was going to be a repeat of the massacre in Urumchi. Somebody said Colonel Chang was in charge of the operation. Somebody else said there’d been wind of an insurrection.’ 

‘How would that affect the hospital?’ Nabila asked. 

‘After the shootings in Urumchi, the hospitals were filled up. A lot of the ordinary patients were thrown out to make room for the injured.’

‘I didn’t know there were any survivors,’ said David. 

‘My sources say there were. Not many, but enough to cause chaos for a while. Of course, if it happened here, this isn’t the hospital they’d head for. They’d use the People’s Hospital up the road. But try telling that to this lot.’

‘This insurrection business,’ Nabila butted in. ‘How reliable is that?’ Elyashar shrugged.

‘I thought you’d know that better than me, Nabila. If there’s going to be one, your father’s likely to be at the head of it.’

‘Don’t go saying things like that too loudly, Elyashar. It’s dangerous talk. But I’ll have a word with my father, see what he knows.’

They passed into the corridor again, and were again confronted with a gaggle of anxious patients. Elyashar hurried off to the meeting he was due to attend.

‘Let’s dump these in the dispensary quickly,’ Nabila said, ‘then let’s clear out of here.’

The plants were taken off to a refrigerated vault somewhere. Just as the assistant was about to take them away, Nabila leaned over and took something from the nearest basket. It was the Snow Lotus.

‘I think I’ll hold on to this,’ she said, glancing shyly at David. She slipped the lotus into a pocket, then turned to another assistant, and ordered a bottle made up from herbal decoctions.

‘Here,’ she said when it was ready. ‘This is for you.’

‘But it tastes awful.’

‘You’ve been out in the country today. How many times have you sneezed?’

‘Three, I think, but ...'

‘How many times do you normally sneeze?’

‘More than that, I suppose. I don’t mind sneezing, really. This stuff is absolutely foul.’ All thought of miracles had vanished when brought face to face with the medicine bottle.

The assistants had all gone to the back to unpack the plants.

‘David, you may be big, you may be virile, you may have the looks of Adonis and the organ of a stallion, but underneath you’re just a little boy.’

‘All men are little boys at heart. It’s no reason to criticize them.’

‘You can’t protect me as long as you’re a little boy. You can’t love me as long as you’re a little boy. What’s more, until you start taking your medicine every day, you can forget about my gorgeous female body and its myriad delights.’

He smiled and swallowed the draught, and they started to leave. Then David turned back to her.

‘Nabila, is there anything that might help Maddie? - Some herb, some root?’

Nabila frowned.

‘From what you’ve told me, it isn’t that easy. I’d really need to see her, take her pulses, and so on. But we can talk about her case, and I’ll do my best to prescribe something.’

Nabila wanted to find a pony cart and go straight to her father’s house. Elyashar had been right: if anyone knew about a threatened uprising, it would be Sheikh Azad.

They headed down to the Chini Bagh, where cart drivers often collected. A couple were parked near the entrance. Further along, a large Pakistani bus was being loaded. The passengers, mostly Pakistani men who’d been staying in the hotel, were standing around, sending luggage up to the roof rack, eating kebabs, or just idling until the journey started. They didn’t seem in the least concerned at being sent out of Kashgar so arbitrarily.

A few yards away stood another group intending to board the bus. Five men and four women, all Western backpackers who had, presumably, been travelling the Silk Road. Kashgar was a famous spot to hang out.

David went up close and overheard some Australian accents. Then, out of the blue, a young man spoke in a broad Scottish accent, saying they might all be faster hiring some donkey carts.

The idea came into David’s head ready formed. Something about the closure of Kashgar had made him feel fenced in. The letter for Maddie was still in his pocket. He couldn’t send it from anywhere in Sinkiang. But what if  ...?

‘Can I please have a word with you?’ he asked the Scot. He spoke in English, but with an accent straight out of the bazaars of Central Asia.

‘Fuck off,’ said the backpacker. 

‘Please - I like to ask you something.’

‘Ah’ve changed all the money Ah need. So fuck on off.’

David wanted to hit him, but thought better of it and merely shook his head.

‘Not change money,’ he said. ‘Pay you money.’

The Scotsman looked him up and down with thinly disguised disgust.

‘If you’re talkin’ aboot what Ah think you’re talkin’ aboot, ye can gae fuck yoursel’ twice, ye wee shite.’

The temptation to knock the youth insensate grew hard to resist. The unnamed Scottish rover looked as though he’d been on the road a long time and collected most of it on himself. He also seemed to have spent a long time with camels of the smelliest variety. A sweet nature would have compensated a lot.

David was about to try again when Nabila appeared from the side.

‘Having trouble, Ruzi?’

‘Not me,’ he said. ‘Our friend here.’

‘Ah’m no’ havin’ trouble, missis, but yir boyfrien’ here’s in big trouble if he disnae fuck on off.’

Nabila stepped up to the traveller and stared him straight in the eyes. Then, whipping one hand between his legs, she grabbed his balls in a potentially agonizing grip.

‘Listen,’ she said, ‘if you don’t want me to squeeze these to a pulp. He does not want to fuck you, believe me; he does not want to sell you drugs or change your money. All he wants is to pay you to do him a small favour. Now, go over there and talk to him about it politely.’

‘And if  Ah don’t?’ The threat to his testicles notwithstanding, the stout representative of Scottish manhood was unwilling to shift his ground.

‘Let me tell you,’ Nabila went on. ‘The bus will leave with all your things on board. You will stay behind. You will never leave Kashgar. Believe me, that is the truth.’

Something in her voice, something in her face made a light come on in his eyes.

‘Aye, maybe so, likes. All right. If you’d kindly take yir han’ off ma privates. Thank you. Not that  Ah havnae enjoyed the wee stroke tremendously.’

He looked round with a surly expression at David and nodded towards an empty area near the hotel entrance. Further down, armed soldiers were observing the loading of the Pakistan-bound bus.

‘Where you going now?’ asked David.

‘Where the fuck d’ye think? Karachi. You want tae come along? Is that it? Is that the wee favour?’

David shook his head.

‘I stay here. But I have letter I like posted. You stay in Karachi?’

The Scot shook his head.

‘Fuck Karachi. Ye cannae even find decent booze. Ah’ve been on the road too bloody long anyway. It’s all fucked, ken. India’s fucked, China’s fucked. Even the hash is crap. Ah’m takin’ the first plane oot tae London. Then it’s straight up the M1 for me.’

David’s eyes lit up.

‘Take this,’ he said, shoving a substantial bundle of Renminbi in the Scot’s direction. An initial reluctance to take Chinese currency was checked as he noticed just how much there was. Even at an unfavourable rate, he’d still come out on top.

‘A letter, eh?’

‘In London. First-class stamp. You have to buy that yourself.’

‘How d’ye know Ah willnae dump the whole thing oot the windae?’

‘You will lose more money.’

David held out the letter, which was still unsealed, and took a pen from his pocket. ‘Fifty pounds for you if you see it posted or delivered. If you give me name and address

For a moment the dusty Scot looked at David as though he’d just been thumped. Finally it sank in. So many Renminbi now, so many pounds on safe arrival of the letter. He dictated his name, Calum Kilbride, and an address in Edinburgh, and saw them written down and sealed into the envelope.