By noon Monday, the Chinese telecommunications system was clogged with Internet traffic. The government had to switch to backup wireless voice systems to communicate. Lower priority messages simply didn’t go through until Tuesday morning (all through Monday night, Chinese computer experts simply shut down computers, servers, and network switches in an attempt to quell the outbreak). In the end, the Chinese had to make a choice: working computers or a working national phone system — they chose the phones.
After a rainy night of meditation and prayer in the buses, 300 people from Amoy assembled themselves on a cloudy Monday morning. Foregoing food, they marched quietly into the just-awakening town market where they sat down in silence. In the center of the gathering, one wizened man held a neatly printed sign. It simply said, “Where are our friends the orange growers? Whom will the Party decide to jail next?”
At first, the local merchants and residents were annoyed at the crowd, then they were fearful, expecting the police to show up any minute and haul the protesters away. When no one came to arrest the group, one merchant began handing out oranges to the sitting mass just before noon, “They’re not as good as old Chu’s oranges,” he apologized, “But you may have as many as you want.” Someone tried to pay the fruit merchant and within seconds, vendors were plying the crowd with food and drink.
Seeing an opening, Brother Wang leaned over to “Master” Chao and whispered, “We must march on the jail now.” Saying nothing further, he got up on legs that should have been stiff but felt remarkably strong. He began to walk out of the market. Almost as one, 300 people stood and began to follow. Several merchants and customers tagged along out of curiosity.
Lee Bensui could scarcely believe his eyes. In reply to his memo as to what to do with the Christian subversives, regional Party headquarters in Amoy sent him, via fax, a letter stating that they were to be released and not executed immediately. He was shocked. China was in the middle of a war and the Party was going soft. He weighed calling headquarters. He gave up after the fourth busy signal at Amoy Party headquarters, half glad he didn’t get through to be heard second guessing his superiors. Oh well, at least the memo didn’t direct him to apologize to them too. He gave the order for the prisoners’ release. He considered whether to call in some trucks and buses to whisk them back to their village where they could cause little harm.
By 12:15 a swelling lunchtime crowd of more than 600 people descended on the Lipu County Party complex. Not wanting to project an overly threatening posture, Brother Wang sank to his knees, clasped his hands, and began praying silently. Everyone between Wang and the old man with the sign at the back of the crowd either went to their knees or sat quietly cross-legged. The locals simply stared at the crowd and at the Party headquarters, waiting for something to happen.
There was an urgent rap on Lee’s door, “Comrade Lee, Comrade Lee!” It was his lackey, Ng.
“Come in and still yourself Ng! What is it?” Ng was given to overreaction, still, given the circumstances, Lee was a bit unnerved.
Lee’s door flew open and Ng arrived wide-eyed and panting on his desk, “Oh, Comrade Lee, what do we do?”
“About what?”
“About the thousands of people outside protesting for the release of the prisoners from the village?”
“What?” A cold shiver went down Lee’s spine — he had ordered the 60 immediately released only 15 minutes ago. He swiveled in his chair (Fu Mingjie’s old chair, actually) and looked out his window on the small square below. His eyes focused on the sea of people below, then they panned out to the sign. He looked no further to see that the crowd was not as large as his deputy claimed, he saw enough to know that something bad was going to happen very soon. Lee reached into his desk and grabbed his pistol, “Call the warden immediately, tell him to delay the release. We cannot have those people released into this crowd!” Lee jumped up and ran for the door, yelling over his shoulder, “Then meet me outside!”
Lee raced down the flight of stairs, almost knocking over a couple of female clerks. He burst outside just as the clouds parted to reveal the midday sun. Lee blinked blindly, trying to gauge the situation and decide what to do next. He heard a commotion to his left as three jail guards led the 60 former prisoners out the front door of the local jail. Lee’s legs went wobbly as he tried to shout and move towards the police. His legs and voice seemed to fail him as the crowd behind him rose up with a hearty shout. Scores of people pressed by him on their way to triumphantly mob the released prisoners. Lee just stood, hands at his side, his pistol hanging limp in his right hand.
Lee began to regain his senses. He tucked his pistol into his waistband and slowly pushed his way towards the center of the enlarging crowd. Someone recognized him and shouted, “There’s Lee! Lee’s the one that released the prisoners! God bless Lee!” Lee almost fainted.
A hush began to move over the crowd and a purposeful movement reached towards Lee. A half-minute later a small but unbroken woman stood before the dazed Party boss. It was Mrs. Chu. She bowed to Lee and he awkwardly returned the unexpected bow.
“God bless you, Lee Bensui. You have done right in the sight of the Lord.” She bowed again, hugged her husband’s executioner and walked back into the crowd, which immediately burst out in cheers.
Lee was numb. He heard someone calling his name. His name. Lee slowly wheeled around. It was Ng.
“Comrade Lee, Comrade! Amoy Party headquarters called. It was a mistake! The directive was a mistake! The prisoners must be arres…” Ng stopped in mid-sentence and realized what he was saying in the midst of the growing mob. He skidded to a stop, suddenly looking very frightened.
Without his company of PAP goons, Lee was powerless to enforce the will of the “People” on the people. Tears streaming down his face, Lee began to climb the once-imposing steps of the Lipu Party headquarters and head for his office. He walked into his office, slamming the door on Ng’s face. Lee sat down at his big desk — Fu’s desk really — and winced absentmindedly at the stabbing in his back. He reached back and removed the painful lump—his pistol — Fu’s old pistol actually. Lee stared at the pistol for several seconds. Acting on their own, his hands pulled the slide of the 9mm semiautomatic back and released. His ears registered a sharp, ringing shlink. As if he were an observer at his own execution, Lee raised the pistol to his temple. Before he pulled the trigger, he wondered if Ng or someone else would get the money for his kidneys. The joyful throng in the square now numbered more than 2,500—they heard nothing but the sound of their own freedom ringing out.
Brigadier General Mao did what he could to rally support to his cause. The garrison commander, General Wong, did what he could to dissuade Mao and anyone else Mao spoke with. The best Mao could hope for was delay.
In what seemed like only a few minutes, 1500 rolled around and they were all back in the meeting room. The mood was pensive. Mao knew his attempt to rally for delay was doomed. This was a defeated cadre simply waiting for the right moment to step out from under a white flag.
General Wong started to address the group from the front of the room. Deciding he had no career left to speak of anyway, Mao rose from amidst his colleagues, “Pardon me, sir.” He turned to look at the remainder of the officers in the room. He held their rapt attention, “I know what you’re all thinking. I know General Wong has convinced you all that we should give in; that it is inevitable that China become whole again. But, may I be permitted to remind all of you that Taiwan is a democracy. The people of Taiwan voted just a few months ago to ratify their separate status from China. Don’t these people, our neighbors and relatives, deserve something more than to be ruled by the Butchers of Beijing? From here I know the struggle may appear to be hopeless, but, what if Chiang Kai-Shek and his men thought that in 1949? Would we have proven to ourselves and world that the Chinese people can govern themselves without dictator or emperor?”