Noble House

"Terrible, terrible," Tiptop said thoughtfully. "Terrible times! Old Friends forsaking Old Friends, enemies being welcomed to the hearth . . . terrible. Oh by the way, tai-pan, one of our old friends asks if you could get him a shipment of goods. Thorium oxide I think it was."
With a great effort Dunross kept his face clean. Thorium oxide was a rare earth, the essential ingredient for old-fashioned gas mantles: it made the mantle emit its brilliant white light. Last year he had happened to hear that Hong Kong had recently become the greatest user after the United States. His curiosity had peaked as Struan's were not in what must clearly be a profitable trade. Quickly he had found out that access to the material was relatively easy and that the trade was prodigious, quite secret, with many small importers, all of them very vague about their business. In nature, thorium occurred in various radioactive isotopes. Some of these were easily converted into fissionable uranium 235, and thorium 232 itself was an enormously valuable breeder material for an atomic pile. Of course, these and many other thorium derivatives were restricted strategic materials but he had been astounded to discover the oxide and nitrate, chemically easily convertible, were not.
He could never find out where the thorium oxides actually went. Of course into China. For a long time, he and others had suspected the PRC of having a crash atomic program, though everyone believed it had to be formulative and at least ten years from fruition. The idea of China nuclear armed filled him with mixed feelings. On the one hand, any nuclear proliferation was dangerous; on the other, as a nuclear power China would instantly become a formidable rival to Soviet Russia, even an equal to Soviet Russia, even a threat, certainly unconquerable—particularly if it also had the means to deliver a retaliatory strike.
Dunross saw both men looking at him. The small vein in L'eung's forehead was pulsing though his face was impassive. "That might be possible, Mr. Tip. How much would be needed and when?"
"I believe immediately, as much as can be obtained. As you know, the PRC is attempting to modernize but much of our lighting is still by gas."
"Of course."
"Where would you obtain the oxides or nitrates?"
"Australia would probably be the quickest, though I've no idea at this moment about quality. Outside of the United States," he added delicately, "it's only found in Tasmania, Brazil, India, South Africa, Rhodesia and the Urals … big deposits there." Neither man smiled. "I imagine Rhodesia and Tasmania'd be best. Is there anyone Phillip or I should deal with?"
"A Mr. Vee Cee Ng, in Princes Building."
Dunross bit back a whistle as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. Mr. Vee Cee Ng, Photographer Ng, was a great friend of Tsu-yan, the missing Tsu-yan, his old friend and associate who had mysteriously fled into China over the Macao border. Tsu-yan had been one of the thorium importers. Up to now, the connection had been meaningless. "I know Mr. Ng. By the way, how is my old friend, Tsu-yan?"
L'eung was plainly startled. Bull's-eye, Dunross thought grimly, shocked that he had never once suspected Tsu-yan of being Communist or having Communist leanings.
"Tsu-yan?" Tiptop frowned. "I haven't seen him for a week or more. Why?"
"I heard he was visiting Peking by way of Macao."
"Curious! That's very curious. I wonder why he'd want to do that —an arch-capitalist? Well, wonders will never cease. If you'd be kind enough to contact Mr. Ng direct, I'm sure he will give you the details."
"I'll do that this morning. As soon as I get back to the office."
Dunross waited. There would be other concessions before they would grant what he sought, if it was to be granted. His mind was racing with the implication of their first request, how to get thorium oxides, whether to get them, wanting to know how far along the PRC was with its atomic program, knowing they would never tell him that. L'eung took out a pack of cigarettes and offered it.
"No thanks," he said.
Both men lit up. Tiptop coughed and blew his nose. "It's curious, tai-pan," he said, "very curious that you go out of your way to help the Victoria and Blacs and all your capitalist banks while the strong rumor is that they'll not help you in your need."
"Perhaps they'll see the error of their ways," Dunross said. "Sometimes it's necessary to forget present advantages for the common good. It would be bad for the Middle Kingdom for Hong Kong to falter." He noted the scorn on L'eung's face but it did not bother him. "It's ancient Chinese doctrine not to forget Old Friends, trusted ones, and as long as I'm tai-pan of the Noble House and have power, Mr. Tip, I and those like me—Mr. Johnjohn for one, our governor for another—will give eternal friendship to the Middle Kingdom and will never permit hegemonists to thrive on our barren rock."
Tiptop said sharply, "It is our barren rock, Mr. Dunross, that is presently administered by the British, is it not?"
"Hong Kong is and always was earth of the Middle Kingdom."
"I will let your definition pass for the moment but everything in Kowloon and the New Territories north of Boundary Road reverts to us in thirty-five-odd years doesn't it—even if you accept the Unequal Treaties forced on our forebears which we don't."
"My forebears have always found their Old Friends wise, very wise, and never men to cut off their Stalks to spite a Jade Gate."
Tiptop laughed. L'eung continued to be set-faced and hostile.
"What do you forecast will happen in 1997, Mr. Dunross?"
"I am not Old Blind Tung, nor a soothsayer, Mr. Tip." Dunross shrugged. "1997 can take care of 1997. Old friends will still need old friends. Heya?"
After a pause Tiptop said, "If your bank will not help the Noble House, nor Old Friends, nor Orlin, how will you remain the Noble House?"
"My forebear, Green-Eyed Devil, was asked the same question by the Great and Honorable Jin-qua when he was beset by his enemies, Tyler Brock and his scum, and he just laughed and said, 'Neng che to lao'—an able man has many burdens. As I'm abler than most I have to sweat more than most."
Tip Tok-toh smiled with him. "And you are sweating, Mr. Dunross?"
"Well, let me put it this way," Dunross told him cheerfully, "I'm trying to avoid the eighty-fourth. As you know, Buddha said that all men have eighty-three burdens. If we succeed in eliminating one we automatically acquire another. The secret of life is to adjust to eighty-three and avoid at all costs acquiring the eighty-fourth."
The older man smiled. "Have you considered selling part of your company, perhaps even 51 percent?"
"No, Mr. Tip. Old Green-Eyed Devil forbade that." The lines around Dunross's eyes crinkled. "He wanted us to sweat."
"Let us hope you don't have to sweat too much. Yes." Tiptop stubbed out his cigarette. "In troubled times it would be good for the Bank of China to have a closer liaison with your banking system. Then these crises would not be so continuous."
Instantly Dunross's mind leaped forward. "I wonder if the Bank of China would consider having a permanent contact stationed within the Vic and an equivalent one in yours?" He saw the fleeting smile and knew he had guessed correctly. "That would ensure close monitoring of any crisis, and assist you should you ever need international assistance."
"Chairman Mao advises self-help and that's what we are doing. But your suggestion might be worthwhile. I will be glad to pass it on."
"I'm sure the bank would be grateful if you would recommend someone to be their contact with the great Bank of China."