"We'll be watching you today," Madame Leung said. "Remember, if you do well, you'll be promoted. We reward good work. If you cannot do the work, do not despair. There are many jobs here at Knight. We will find something for you."
The line moved forward again. Peanut showed Hulan and Siang how to wave their passes over the bar code reader. Then they entered the door. The women ahead of them automatically divided into two groups, each going down different corridors. Hulan's line snaked left and right through the halls until she felt completely disoriented. Siang must have felt the same way, because she reached out and grabbed a pinch of Hulan's smock. Peanut bounced along rapidly, once turning her head back over her shoulder to say, "Everyone feels lost in here when they start, but you'll get used to it in a few days." They entered the main workroom, the women moving briskly to their positions before the various machines. At 7:00 the machines clamored to life. Within minutes the clatter and clanking of the machines had created a deafening roar.
Fortunately, Hulan and Tang Siang had been assigned to work with Peanut, who, although young, had a cheerful disposition and a great deal of patience. Peanut explained that they had been given the easy job of punching strands of plastic hair into minuscule holes in the heads of the dolls. Hulan remembered this task from the day before and thought that she'd gotten a lucky break. She was mistaken. Yesterday she'd been seated and she hadn't yet hurt her hand. Today she stood before a conveyor that sped up as the morning progressed. What had seemed relatively easy the day before as the trainees had moved from station to station soon became impossibly difficult. As the machines continued to churn, the room's temperature rose until the only respite came in the form of the slight oven-hot breeze that came off the moving parts of the equipment. After three hours Hulan's hands burned with fatigue, her wound throbbed, her fingers were scratched, and her smock was damp with sweat.
Siang's hands, however, moved deftly, competently. After the morning break Aaron Rodgers, who circulated between this room and the final assembly area, stopped to compliment Siang on her abilities. "Thank you very much," she said in heavily accented English.
Aaron's face broke into a smile. He leaned his head toward Siang's and spoke into her ear. With the sound of the machines, Hulan couldn't hear what he said, but she could see Siang blush, return his smile, and reply, "No, I am not a city girl. I am educated here in our local school. My father says English is very important."
Aaron Rodgers agreed, massaged Siang's shoulders for a moment, then turned his attention to Hulan. Again there was absolutely no sign of recognition. Aaron looked right into her face and, keeping a proper distance, spoke Mandarin in a tone loud enough to be just barely heard over the din of the machines. "Your fingers are bleeding. We can't have that on the figures."
"I'm sorry," she responded in Mandarin.
Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of Band-Aids. "Use these. During the break, come to me. I will try to find you another job."
"I'll do better," Hulan vowed.
"We'll see," he said. "For now, just get back to-"
A woman's high-pitched screams cut him off. Instantly a quiet fell just under the continuing drone of the machines as all of the talking among the women came to an abrupt halt. Once the machines were shut down, the woman's screams seemed even louder as they reverberated through the echoing vastness of the room. Aaron took off at a trot; then the others left their posts and began crowding around the injured woman. Hulan edged into the throng, using her elbows to push her way to the front.
A woman sat on the floor before the fiber-shredding machine. Her right hand gripped her left elbow, holding that arm up and away from her body as she tried vainly to stanch the flow of blood. The flesh along her forearm was sliced open, and two of her fingers were gone. Aaron knelt beside her, pulled his shirt off, and wrapped it around the arm. Without any hesitancy he picked her up. The crowd parted to create an aisle. As he walked toward the door, the woman began to struggle. "No! No! No!" Her screams now seemed louder, more terrified than before. Instinctively the other girls stepped back even farther. A few turned their eyes away. A minute later Aaron stepped out of the room, the door shut, and the woman's screams faded. Someone near Hulan muttered, "We won't see Xiao Yang again." Then Madame Leung's voice came over a loudspeaker. "Please return to your places." The girls obeyed. Levers were pulled and buttons pushed. The machines revved back to speed, and the girls went back to their labors. Hulan held her spot just long enough to see the still bloody claws reach out, grab another fiber brick, and draw it into the machine's thrashing maw.
10
TWO HOURS AFTER HULAN TOOK HER PLACE ON THE assembly line for her first full day of work, Investigator Lo dropped David off in front of the Administration Building. As with Hulan's initial visit, Sandy Newheart stood on the steps to greet him. The two men shook hands, then went into the building, making their way down a corridor to a conference room where Henry and Douglas Knight awaited their arrival. There were no other attorneys present.
Henry Knight's handshake was straightforward and firm. He was of average height and lean. His silvery hair curled just over his collar. "It's great to have you here," he said. "Randall Craig and Miles Stout said they'd send us someone who was familiar with China, our company, and was quick on his feet. They say you fit the bill." He looked over to where his son sat. "That's my boy, Doug."
Doug raised a hand and waved. He looked to be about forty-five. Like his father, he was thin. But while Henry seemed spry and full of vigor, Doug came across as gaunt and lethargic.
"Can I get anyone coffee?" Sandy asked. "I can have it brought in."
"No, thanks," Henry said. "I don't want some damn tea girl hovering around. We can break later." Then, "That okay with you, Stark?"
"Just fine."
The four men sat at one end of the table, leaving the other dozen seats empty.
"We're on a tight schedule with Tartan and I want to keep things moving along, so I'll start with a quick review for your benefit." Henry opened the file in front of him, waited for the others to follow suit, and said with a grin, "I've always liked the Tartan offer. They're acquiring us outright. Doug retains his position as chief financial officer for five years. I gracefully exit and enjoy my retirement. Tartan asked for and received a non-compete clause, so that if I come up with any new ideas they'll come straight here as they always have."
Henry checked the others, then went on. "But I don't plan to do much in the way of development. I want to enjoy myself-travel a bit, visit my old haunts. Doug, on the other hand, is still young. I built this company and grew it to where it is today. We have these new technologies, and who knows where they'll end up?" He turned his steel gray eyes on David. "I want my boy to be a part of that excitement."
"As I see it, everything you've asked for is right here," David assured him. "But I wouldn't be completely honest if I didn't tell you that once a conglomerate like Tartan buys a company like this, it gets to do what it wants. Sometimes the people who are left behind are squeezed out. Sometimes they're uncomfortable with all the changes. Sometimes it's a perfect fit. There are no guarantees."