‘Tian, with the best will in the world, I don’t know—’
‘Do you realise that the term zi you was only exported to China in the middle of the nineteenth century?’ Tu continued obstinately. ‘Five thousand years of Chinese history weren’t enough to create it, nor were they enough for min zhu, democracy, or ren quan, human rights. But what does zi you mean? To stay true to yourself. To make you and your point of view the starting point for everything you do, not the dogma of how the masses think and feel. You might argue that the demonisation of the individual is a Maoist invention, but you’d be wrong. Mao Zedong was merely a dreadful variant on our age-old fear of being ourselves. Perhaps a just punishment, because we had cooled off in our conviction that all the people outside China were barbarians. When China was forced to open itself up to the Western powers, we were completely ignorant of what every other people with experience of colonialism knew intuitively. We wrongly believed we were the hosts, whereas in reality the guests had long since become the owners. Mao wanted to change that, but he didn’t just try to turn back the wheels of history, as the Ayatollahs went on to do in Iran. His efforts were focused on undoing history and isolating China on the summit of his ignorance. That just won’t work with a people who think, feel and criticise. That only works with robots. Pu Yi wasn’t our last Emperor; Mao was, if you see what I mean. He was the most horrific of them alclass="underline" he stole everything from us, our language, our culture, our identity. He betrayed every ideal we had and all he left behind was a pile of rubble.’
Tu Tian paused, his fleshy lips twitching. Sweat shimmered on his bald head.
‘You asked how Yoyo could have become a dissident? I’ll tell you, Owen. Because she doesn’t want to live with the trauma that my generation and my parents’ generation will never be able to come to terms with. But if she wants to help an entire people find their identity, she can’t quote the spirit of the French revolution, nor the foundation of Spanish democracy, nor the end of Mussolini or Hitler, the fall of Napoleon or of the Roman Empire. History may have equipped Europe with the inconceivable eloquence it needs to formulate its demands, but we have long lacked even the simplest words to do so. Oh, sure, China sparkles! China is rich and beautiful and Shanghai is the centre of the world, where everything is permitted and nothing is impossible. We’ve drawn even with the United States, two economic giants neck to neck, and we’re on our way to becoming number one. But amidst all this shine our lives are impoverished on the inside, and we’re aware of this poverty. We’re not turning to the outside, Owen, it just seems like that. If we did turn to the outside, you would see the emptiness, like a transparent squid. We look to abroad for examples to follow, because the last Chinese example we had betrayed us. Yoyo suffers from being a child of this hollowed-out age more than the self-satisfied critics of globalisation and human rights infringements in Europe and America could ever imagine. You only see our transgressions, not the steps we’re taking. Not what we’ve already achieved. Not the unimaginable toil necessary to stand up for ideals, to even formulate them, without any moral legacy!’
Jericho blinked in the glistening sunlight. He wanted to ask when Chen Hongbing’s heart had been torn out, but he didn’t say a word. Tu wheezed and swept his hand over his bald head nervously.
‘That’s what makes people like Yoyo bitter. If someone in England takes to the streets and demands freedom, the most that will happen is that someone might ask them what for. In China we’ve been labouring under the illusion that our crazy economic upturn would automatically bring freedom along with it, but we had no idea what freedom actually is.
‘For over twenty years now, everything in our country has revolved around this word, everyone sings the joys of the individual way of life, but in the end all it means is the freedom to conform. People don’t like talking about the other freedom because it questions by implication whether a Communist Party which is no longer communist has any right to absolute rule. The left-wing tyranny has become a right-wing one, Owen, and that in turn has become one without any substance. We live in a consumers’ dictatorship, and woe betide anyone who comes and complains that there’re still the issues of the farmers and the migrant workers and the executions and the economic support of pariah states and so on.’
Jericho rubbed his chin.
‘I consider myself very lucky that you would honour me with all these explanations,’ he said. ‘But I’d be much happier if you could get back to Yoyo.’
‘Forgive an old man, Owen.’ Tu looked at him, his face furrowed. ‘But I’ve been talking about Yoyo the whole time.’
‘Yes, but without telling me about her personal background.’
‘Owen, as I already said—’
‘I know,’ sighed Jericho. His gaze wandered over the glass and steel panels of the Jin Mao Tower. ‘It’s none of my business.’
Jin Mao Tower
Behind one of the panels, Xin stood staring out at the stifling sauna of the Shanghai afternoon. He had retreated to his spacious Art Deco suite on the seventy-third floor. It had floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, but even from this exposed viewpoint there was nothing to see but architecture. The higher up one was, the more identical the individual blocks of apartments and offices looked, as if thousands upon thousands of termite tribes had taken up quarters alongside one another.
He dialled a tap-proof number on his mobile.
Someone answered. The screen stayed black.
‘What have you found out about the girl?’ asked Xin, without wasting any time on pleasantries.
‘Very little,’ answered the voice in his ear, the time lag barely noticeable. ‘Only confirmation of what we already feared. She’s an activist.’
‘Well known?’
‘Yes and no. Some of her files suggest we’re dealing with a member of a group of internet dissidents who call themselves Guardians. A faction who are becoming a real nuisance to the Party with their demands for democracy.’
‘You mean that Yoyo didn’t intentionally seek us out?’
‘We can probably rule that out. Pure coincidence. We scanned her hard drives faster than she could switch them off, which suggests the attack surprised her. We didn’t manage to destroy her computer though. She must have a highly efficient security system, and unfortunately that doesn’t bode well. We’re now convinced that fragments – at least – of our transfer data are now in Yuyun – er, Yoyo’s computer.’
‘She won’t be able to do much with it,’ said Xin contemptuously. ‘The encoding went through the strictest of tests.’