‘After the Tiananmen Square massacre in eighty-nine, the one-child policy became grounds on which lots of Chinese were granted asylum in American courts.’ Stern winked at Felipe. ‘See? I didn’t really go back to bed after your call. Been doing my homework.’ And he turned back to Li and Margaret. ‘But after the Golden Venture went aground off of New York, the US reversed its policy on that, until President Clinton announced in ’97 that the one-child policy should be considered political persecution. So your sister,’ he said to Li, ‘was driven from her home but lost her baby and knew the only way she was gonna have the freedom to fulfill her human right to have children was by escaping the country of her birth.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s irresistible stuff. No judge in an American court’s gonna send her back.’ He stabbed a finger at Li. ‘And you’ll testify if needs be? How she’s been separated from her daughter for two years? And how you’ve had the sole responsibility of looking after the child in her absence?’
Li had no idea what kind of trouble this might get him in with his embassy, but he nodded. It was all true. ‘Sure,’ he said.
‘Good.’ Stern seemed very pleased with himself. ‘And if Professor Mendez and Dr. Campbell approve a diet that you promise to see she sticks to, then I figure we’re home free.’ He finished off his French toast, drained a mug of coffee and wiped his face with a paper napkin. ‘Okay,’ he said, and stood up. ‘Let’s go get her outta there.’
Armed correctional officers of the TDCJ controlled the front and rear entries to the College of Criminal Justice at the top of the hill. There was also a substantial police presence cordoning off the college from the rest of the campus.
The prisoners had been brought over from the Holliday Unit on two buses an hour earlier and were being held in the Eliasberg Room, a brick-walled conference room at the back of the court. Its conference table had been removed and replaced by rows of plastic chairs. Judge McKinley, a laconic black man in his forties, who presided over the immigration court at Goree, had been given chambers in a library room through the wall from the prisoners.
The officers handling the prisoners were still wearing their Tivek suits and HEPA face masks, but the judge, on assurances from Department of Health officials that none of the prisoners was infectious, had refused to take any precautions and entered the court as usual wearing his black gown over a charcoal grey suit. On a bench, flanked by the Stars and Stripes on one side and the Lone Star of Texas on the other and set high above the court officer and a Chinese translator, he looked out over the rising tiers of an almost empty courtroom. There were three tables set out front, one in the middle for the prisoner and one on either side. The INS lawyer, a young, anxious-looking woman in her early thirties, sat at one of them the other was for representatives of the accused. But of the sixty-seven people due to appear before the court that day, only Xiao Ling had any legal representation.
Stern sat looking bored, leaning back chewing reflectively on the end of his pencil as the first immigrants were brought before the judge. Margaret sat at the back of the courtroom watching proceedings with a detached sense of horrified curiosity. Illegal immigrants had few, if any, rights. The court was required to allow them to make contact with their consulates, and they had the right to legal representation. But virtually none of them had access to a lawyer, never mind the means to pay for one. An anonymous Chinese in a crisp, dark suit sat very erect about three seats away from Margaret, watching proceedings and scribbling occasionally in a notebook on his knee. Margaret guessed he was from the Chinese consulate. Li had gone earlier to speak with his sister, and was now waiting outside the court until she was called. Margaret wondered if he was trying to avoid the consular official.
The court was sitting, Margaret knew, on a constitutional knife edge. The media would not normally be interested in the proceedings of an immigration court in Huntsville but would have rights of access if they so desired. She was certain that it would not be long before some local newshound would figure out that there was something a little out of the ordinary going on up at the college and put in an appearance. She had no idea how the authorities would deal with that. She was just glad that it was not her responsibility.
A procession of pathetic figures in white prison uniform was brought before the judge by a burly sergeant wearing a face mask and gloves. Virtually none of them spoke English, and Judge McKinley had to resort to using the interpreter, a process with which he was clearly quite familiar. They all faced the same questions. Name. Nationality. Did they understand the charge against them? Why should the court not deport them back to China? Would they like time to prepare a defence and seek representation? Case continued for seven days. Each took five minutes or less to process.
They were about seven or eight cases in when Margaret turned to see Agent Fuller entering the court. He made his way quietly down the steps and sat several rows from the front, watching the proceedings impassively.
It was nearly an hour before Xiao Ling was brought in. Margaret guessed her case was imminent when Agent Hrycyk wandered into the back of the court, gave her a wink, and sauntered past Fuller, down to the front where he took a seat on the public benches behind the INS lawyer. He was pale-faced and puffy-eyed, and looked as if he had had about as much sleep as Margaret. A few moments later, Mendez slipped into the back of the courtroom. He saw Margaret and waved a slip of paper at her, smiling, before taking an aisle seat.
Li followed Xiao Ling into the back of the court and sat beside Margaret. She was aware of the Chinese consular official looking curiously along the row in their direction. But Li kept his eyes facing front. If he had to give evidence, Margaret thought, it might not be too long before he was appearing before an immigration court himself asking for political asylum.
They watched as Xiao Ling was led to the table at the front and told to sit. Stern rose to his feet. ‘If it please Your Honour, my name is Daniel Stern, attorney at law in the state of Texas, and I’m appearing for the accused.’
The judge scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘Thank you, Mr. Stern, how does your client respond to the charges?’
‘Judge, my client intends to claim political asylum on the grounds of persecution in her native China under that government’s one-child policy. I don’t know if you are familiar—’
Judge McKinley cut him off. ‘I know all about the one-child policy, Mr. Stern,’ he said sharply.
‘Of course, your honour. Then I would like to apply for bail for my client in order to give us time to prepare a case.’
The INS lawyer was on her feet immediately. ‘We object, Your Honour. Given the special circumstances surrounding all the accused in these cases, we think it would be unsafe for the court to grant bail in any of them.’
The judge said, ‘Thank you, Miss Carter.’ He looked at Stern. ‘Mr. Stern?’
‘Judge, taking account of these…special circumstances…’ he put particular emphasis on the words, and smiled across at the INS bench, ‘…I’m proposing that the court attach special conditions to the terms of the bail granted to Miss Xiao Ling.’ He pronounced her name, ‘Shaolin’. ‘We have in court today the brother of the accused.’
Margaret was aware of Li shifting uncomfortably, and she saw Hrycyk glaring back at them from the front of the court.
Stern went on, ‘Mr. Li Yan is a senior law enforcement officer with the Chinese police and a special criminal justice liaison here in the United States, based at the Chinese Embassy in Washington. If the court is prepared to release the accused into his protective custody, then he will guarantee her reappearance in this court on the date your honour fixes for the hearing.’