INCARNATION (29 page)

‘“
Twelve turns of the rail on walls of emerald"
,' she began.

‘"A sea-beast’s horn repels the dust, a jade repels the cold. 

Letters from Mount Lang-yuan have cranes for messengers".'

Her long dress was fastened with tiny buttons from neck to hem. As she recited the poem, her right hand fell to the lowest button and undid it. He felt himself harden again. She would not undress. Some, coming to a lotus house for the first time, found this strange. They had used escort agencies before, and they thought this just a more expensive version. They were very wrong. This was only the first room, Farrar reflected. The essence of what happened here was that nothing should be done in haste. In lovemaking, delay is everything. He’d been to a cricket match earlier that day, losing himself in the slow pace and finely tuned cadences of the game.

Meihua recited another line from the poem and opened the second button. He watched her face. He thought of Elizabeth, and wondered why he’d stayed with her so long.

“‘
To glimpse her shadow, to hear her voice, is to love her
”,' recited Meihua. '"
On the pool of jade the lotus leaves spread out across the water
".'

The dress was open as far as her knees now, but she kept it in place so he could not see her legs. The opium mixture began to take effect, making him relaxed while keeping his senses sharp. Her voice lulled him further, swaying through the stanzas with practised ease. Perhaps it really was her favourite poem.

He thought of David Laing in Sinkiang. How precise had the directions given by the boy Tursun been? He’d heard what the boy had said on tape. But there’d been a few times when he’d been left alone with Laing. In the time available, how likely was it that David could really track down something as well concealed as the weapons centre? He’d received hard confirmation that the first full-scale prototype would be ready for testing in a week to two weeks.

Her hands moved slowly up her thighs, opening buttons quietly until she reached her pubic region. He caught a brief glimpse of dark hair, then her fingers slipped inside and began to move backwards and forwards between her legs; all the time she continued to recite the poem.

But her voice was already growing rough and hard to control. When she recited the last line, it was with a sense of relief for them both. Her fingers moved back and forth rhythmically, and he watched, now her face, now her hand, intent on every movement. Her face and neck reddened, and her left hand clutched the edge of the couch. He could see nothing but the back of her long white hand, now slow, now fast. Her eyes rolled back, as if she were on the verge of fainting, and her breath came in tearing gasps. He wanted to take two simple steps across the room and take her. But this was only the first room.

She was very skilful. She knew when to increase and when to slacken the pressure, when to slow down and when to hurry, when to use her fingers and when the palm of her hand. Every time she seemed about to come, her hand would relax and she would look at him and smile the most innocent smile in the world. He would smile back, admiring how well she had been taught.

When she came, it was explosive, her entire body arching as spasm after spasm passed through her, making her cry out again and again. And he watched and felt himself more aroused than he’d been in years.

She grew calm again, and rearranged her dress, and smiled.

‘Are you ready yet?’ she asked. ‘Or shall I do it again? There are many methods.’

He shook his head, and, opening his robe, took his erect penis in one hand. She got up and went to a cupboard, from which she brought a small porcelain bowl. It was so thin he could see her fingers through it.

She placed the bowl on the floor, then knelt in front of him while he masturbated. He lacked her training, and in her presence he felt like a schoolboy again, discovering sex for the first time. Even dressed, she roused him as no other woman had done. He tried to hold back, and the drugs did help a little, but in the end he came quite soon. Very skilfully, she caught his semen in her cupped hands, then let what she could fall into the little bowl.

He put his robe back in place, and the door opened, admitting Master Wei. The master took the bowl from Meihua, dipped his index finger in the semen, and brought it to his lips.

‘Salty,’ he said. ‘A little tired. You sleep now.’

Meihua led him to a small, beautifully furnished bedroom. He could not work out how it related to any of the other rooms: it was like a maze up here. Master Wei brought him a pot of herbal tea and left him with Meihua. He took off his robe and lay naked on the bed.

‘Stay with me,’ he said, ‘while I sleep.’

Kashgar

T
he city centre was in chaos. Half of Kashgar was out ransacking the bazaars, while the other half was at home making secure what they had bought earlier. The traders were happy, but only up to a point. Stock was dwindling or gone, and with the city closed, there seemed no hope of replenishing any of it.

You couldn’t buy a sack of rice anywhere, regardless of quality or price. The butchers were down to their last joints of lamb, the bakers had baked their last batches of biao, nobody had bags of flour, the last cans of cooking oil had gone an hour ago. But the crowds continued to work their way in and out of the stalls, ready to haggle and buy the moment they saw the least sign of something that might see them through the coming siege. David saw one man struggling past with a wooden trolley heaped with jars of honey, and another with more watermelons than he and his family could hope to eat in a month.”

Two young men stood guard outside Nabila’s father’s house. Inside, armed men stood in small groups everywhere. One, who did not know Nabila, tried to stop her crossing the courtyard, but was quickly pulled off by his colleagues. In another corner, Nabila’s brother Osman was talking to one of the commanders. Turning, he caught sight of Nabila. He walked across the courtyard and greeted her warmly.

‘What’s going on, Osman? We only just heard about the curfew at the hospital.’

‘Some security people arrived here about an hour ago. They took Father and Omar. I was at the mosque when it happened. By the time I got back, they’d gone.’ 

Nabila’s face went white.

‘But why on earth should they want to take Father? That could spark off precisely the sort of insurrection they say they want to prevent.’

‘Well, I think that may be exactly what they’re after. I think they want a repeat of Urumchi.’ 

‘But why? It doesn’t make any sense.’ 

‘I agree. But I think Chang Zhangyi wants to provoke us. The international press won’t criticize him for putting down an insurrection that threatens people’s lives and property. Father has issued specific instructions. There are to be no further prayers in the mosques. In fact, no meetings of any kind, especially in the Idgah. We’re to submit unless our women and children are threatened. And in the meantime, the jihad commanders have been instructed to get ready to launch an all-out campaign once the word is given.’

‘I don’t think that’s wise,’ said David. 

‘And just what do you know about it? Please, I know you’re working with Nabila. But you’d be best to stick to your herbs and potions.’ 

Nabila hardly knew what to do. 

‘Osman, he knows more about this than you think.’ 

‘What can he possibly know? He’s not even from Sinkiang.’

‘Nabila ...’ David beckoned her to one side. ‘Nabila, I’m trusting you with my life. If it wasn’t for this morning, I couldn’t do this. You have to speak to your brother, or make him speak to me. Back in London, I’m a senior intelligence officer.’

‘I’d guessed that much.’

‘Very likely. Anyway, my job is to analyse military activity in western China. In the past few months, things have been very busy. The PLA’s been moving tanks, guns, even whole regiments right along the border with Gansu. They’ve also been bringing in troops disguised as workmen, in civilian lorries. Have you heard of Baoguo Barracks in Huocheng County?’

She nodded.

‘Baoguo now has an entire tank regiment in residence. Our assessment of your manpower indicates that any rising you undertake at this point will be crushed out of existence within twenty-four hours. There’ll be massive loss of life. They may even bulldoze Kashgar to the ground. Believe me, this is not the time.’

She did not question anything he said. That too was a heritage of the morning. Thoughtfully, she went back to her brother. She needed to communicate David’s fears without actually saying how he knew what he did. When she finished, Osman came over to where David was standing by the pool.

‘It’s a beautiful pool,’ David said. ‘I only saw it at night before.’

Fish darted in and out of the deep shadows among which they lived their lives.

‘There have been fish in this pool since the time of Yakub Beg. My great-grandfather built this house. He was also ahun at the Idgah Mosque. I am told he brought the fish here from the tomb of Abakh Hoja. Have you been there yet?’

David shook his head.

‘Nabila says you think they might destroy the city.’ David hesitated. How much could he, in honesty, tell this man?

'They have the power to do it, and I believe they have orders to do it under certain circumstances.’ 

‘What circumstances?’

‘A rising, however unsuccessful. As revenge, assuming you killed Han officials or military men.’

‘How do you know this? You sound suspiciously like a government agent.’ 

Again, David paused.

‘Would I sound like that’, he said, ‘if I were to give you a complete breakdown of their military disposition in Sinkiang as of last week?’ 

‘You could make that up.’

‘You have men out there. Let them check everything I tell you. Believe me, I’m trying to help you. And I’m trying to prevent unnecessary bloodshed.’

'I hope that’s true. If not, your own blood will be the first. Now, forgive me. I have a lot to do.’ 

'I’ll have the breakdown ready in an hour.’ 

Osman headed off to the main gate. Nabila led David upstairs, and he told her what he’d promised Osman.

‘I’m going to do this from memory,’ he said. ‘I just need a table and some paper.’

‘I’ll have that arranged for you. David, Osman mentioned something else to me. He said I’m not to leave the house again. And you’re to stay as well. I’m sorry, but my father left strict instructions. If there’s an invasion, the mujahidin can defend the family better here.’ 

‘Surely your father didn’t mention me.’ 

‘No, that was Osman. He wants to keep an eye on you.’ 

‘In that case, I’m going to need my things from your cousin’s place.’

‘I’ll send somebody round before the curfew.’

‘No, I have to go myself. There are things in those bags ...’

‘I’m sure there are, but Osman won’t let you go. I’ll go myself, if that suits you. I can have an escort, I’ll be quite safe.’

‘All right. I don’t want to cause you trouble, love.’

They were on the second floor. A balcony gave out on to the courtyard, where the fish still swam in the pool.

‘David, you have to be very careful in this house. Especially in what you say. Any hint of improper familiarity between us could lead to your death, perhaps both our deaths. I’m not just Sheikh Azad’s daughter. I’m also the widow of a holy martyr. There are plenty here who’d like to see me in a veil.

‘I’ll get your paper now. You can sit out here: it’ll be pleasant for you.’ She looked yearningly into his eyes. ‘I like things to be pleasant for you.’

He smiled and watched her walk down the corridor and out of sight. When she was gone, he went to the rail and looked down. From somewhere, a light breeze had sprung up, rippling the surface of the pool and lifting the lightest parts of the foliage.

A servant came, carrying a light wooden table, followed by another with a chair. David thanked them and sat down. A few minutes passed, and he got up and went to the rail again. The breeze still worked its way in and out.

At that moment, a door opened somewhere further down the corridor. A babble of voices sounded loudly and was shut off again as the door closed. Nabila appeared, carrying sheets of white paper.

'Thank you,’ he said.

‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘My mother’s very agitated. She thinks they may torture my father again, or kill him. I want to try to calm her down, then go to the hospital for some medication.’

‘Nabila, how can I find out about winds?’

'I’m sorry?’

‘Winds. Prevailing winds, winds on certain days. If your victims really were killed by something in the atmosphere, they must have been downwind of a test. If I can establish the wind directions for each group of victims, I can get a bearing on the test site.’

She looked at him and smiled.

‘I already did that,’ she said. ‘After the first few times, when I realized what might be going on, I started asking about which way the wind had been blowing. I’ve got all the notes back in my room at the hospital.’

H
e woke to a gentle pressure from Meihua on his left shoulder.

‘Master Wei told me it is time to wake you now,’ she said. ‘You are to drink this.’ She held out a fresh pot, a Yishing-ware pot in the shape of a pomegranate. He had seen one like it in a museum in Peking, an extremely rare specimen.

A chair and table had been set up at the foot of the bed. Meihua placed the teapot on the table, then the door opened and the first two girls came in, each carrying a tray on which covered bowls had been set. Like Meihua, who must have changed while he slept, they were wearing coral-coloured dresses. They placed the bowls on the table, together with a pair of chopsticks.

The girls left, and he got off the bed. A fresh robe was waiting for him on a stand, a coral robe. Meihua began to serve him. He felt ravenously hungry suddenly, though he had eaten well at the club. The combination of sexual excitement, drugs, and medicinal herbs was slowly altering his body chemistry. It had happened before, but not like this. At his invitation, Meihua ate with him. He could hardly stop looking at her.