The Last Mandarin

Chapter 21

Vivien and Liu sat on the edge of the latest dig, where warriors were still being unearthed. It was not unlike where they’d sat decades ago, as young revolutionaries.

Only last time, they were on the ground, their legs dangling into the pit.

Only last time, they were on the same side. Or so she’d thought.

Only last time, they were in love. Or so she thought.

This time she was under no such illusion.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” said Liu.

“I wouldn’t have, had I known it was a trap.” Vivien tilted her head slightly to indicate the armed guards.

She looked at her former husband, his face in profile. He hadn’t aged as much as he should have. As much as she had. In fact, he’d hardly changed. That, she knew, was the problem. And her mistake. Thinking he had changed.

Thinking he’d become a decent human being. A human being.

“Not a trap.”

“Oh, really, can I leave?” She made to get up, but he grasped her Shanghai Tang and pulled her down.

“No sudden moves,” he warned in a whisper. “Why did you come?”

She took a deep breath, followed by such a huge exhale, she thought she saw the dirt flutter on the shoulders of the closest Terracotta Warrior. She knew it wasn’t possible, since he was thirty feet away, and in the pit.

It was an illusion. Like so much of my life, Vivien now knew. A delusion.

So much magical thinking had brought her to this point. To this place.

I came because I thought you were in trouble. I came because I thought you knew something and could stop the attacks. I came because I thought you’d changed.

I came because, despite what you did, I still love you.

“I came because I’m a fool.”

Liu looked at her, and now that she could see his face full-on, she saw that he had aged. A lot. There was worry in his eyes. In the lines around his eyes. Something had gotten its hooks into him. And dug deep into his flesh. And would not let go.

“You’d have thought we’d grow out of it, this tendency to do foolish things,” he said. Despite the lines down his face, his voice was calm, musical. “Though I do wonder what would become of the world if young people didn’t do foolish things.”

“And old people?”

“Them too. Us too.” He smiled again, and she felt herself falling.

How was it possible? Here was a man who’d betrayed her.

Betrayed them all. Who’d aligned, allied himself, with a monster.

With a monstrous regime. A man who’d lured her here, almost certainly to imprisonment, to be tortured until she begged for death.

Liu Tongzheng. Who’d lied to her for all the years of their marriage. Pretending he too was a revolutionary when, in fact, he was the opposite. A spy, a mole. A traitor to their cause.

And now her own goddamned heart was betraying her.

“Only the young and the old can afford to do stupid things,” he said. “The young have a lot to gain by taking chances. The old have little to lose.”

“You’re wrong. The young have everything to lose. My brother, for example.”

Known to the world as Tank Man, but to Vivien as Kai-wen. Kevin. Their son’s namesake.

“You killed my brother.”

“I turned him in. I had no choice. What happened to him after that was not my doing.”

“You handed him over! What did you think was going to happen? He’d spend his days tending peach trees? He trusted you. I trusted you. He died in a goddamned labor camp because of you.”

As soon as she’d found out what her husband had done, she’d kicked him out. But she’d also kept his secret. Telling no one of his betrayal. Telling no one he was actually an MSS agent.

She’d divorced him, then discovered that just when she most needed support, their friends abandoned her. They blamed her for the failure of the marriage. Whispering that she was cold. Hard. Not the right partner for the gentle, kindly professor.

They might respect her but did not like her. Did not want her at their dinner parties. Fundraisers, yes, where they could parade around their “friend,” the famous human rights activist.

But into their homes for intimate private gatherings? No.

It might have been different had she told them who Liu really was. What he’d really done. But she could not.

She’d kept his secret for the sake of the children, telling them he’d died in a car accident. And he might as well have been dead. He’d disappeared back into China, absorbed into the body politic.

She’d also remained mute for the sake of the cause.

The world must never know that Tank Man was dead.

Kai-wen, young Kai-wen. Running out to stand in front of that line of tanks. Stopping them with just his skinny body. Holding out his arms, hands clutching the bags of groceries for their dinner.

As long as people thought he might still be alive, as long as other dissidents thought he’d survived, then the myth, the symbol, survived.

Tank Man defied the regime and lived. They could too.

But he hadn’t survived. Vivien’s own husband had made sure of that.

“And you’ve never betrayed anyone?” said Liu. “Do you really want to have this conversation?”

Behind all the noble reasons hid the real reason she’d kept his secret. It was the deal. She’d keep his dirty secret, and he would keep hers.

She glared at him, loathing and yet still loving him.

“Why am I here?”

He turned to face the pit and the latest army to appear out of the dirt at the foot of Mount Li.

It served as an allegory. Sometimes you had to hide, lie low. Bide your time. And sometimes you had to get dirty to achieve your goals.

The Terracotta Warriors had inspired the revolution they’d birthed decades earlier.

“Pangu.”

“What of it?” she said.

“I need to know what you know.”

“Fuck off.”

There was movement behind her. Boots and the unmistakable sound of a weapon being cocked.

He lifted his hand, very slightly, and the boots stepped back.

Vivien had realized as soon as she’d seen her former husband that he must now be a high-ranking official within the Chinese government. But that very slight movement, and the immediate reaction of the MSS agents, told her he had ascended to the highest peak.

“Who are you?” she asked. Though even as she asked it, she knew the question really was What are you? “What’s Wang doing here? Why did he leave us alone?”

Too many questions, she knew. They were getting all mixed in together.

“I asked him to.”

Lines appeared between her brows as she took that in. Wang Lai, the head of the MSS, took orders from her former husband? She felt all her senses heightened. Now was not the time for even the smallest mistake.

“In a few days,” Liu continued, “as part of the celebrations of the New Year at the Party Congress, it will be announced that I will be the new head of the Ministry of State Security. Taking over from Wang.”

Vivien had known that Wang was to be replaced. Her most trusted informant had told her. But she’d been told the replacement was that nameless woman, not Liu, not her ex-husband.

“Yes,” he said, reading her mind. “That photo of the older woman in the garden? AI-generated, to appeal to you. So that you would convince others. So that no one would know it’s me.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You sent it to me? You’re my contact?” The full horror of this came crashing down. Her informant wasn’t a highly placed dissident, but a highly placed MSS officer. Her former husband. Who knew her well enough to deceive her.

There was nothing artificial about his intelligence. It was his emotions that were artificial. Generated to fit the moment.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You’re here because our needs are aligned.”

“I doubt that.”

“When you and I first sat here and looked out at the warriors, we had an idea. A plan.” He was examining her, studying her for any reactions. “That day we created Pangu.”

Through the thick walls, and beyond the pounding of her heart, she could just hear the unmistakable thump, thump, thump of rotor blades. A helicopter was approaching. A big one. A military one.

Who could this be? What fresh horror is arriving?

“After the debacle of Tiananmen, you and I sat here and dreamed up a long-range plan. We’d create a network of dissidents, of pro-democracy activists, and name it after the god of creation and destruction.”

“Why’re you telling me what I already know?” she said.

“To remind you. Our goal was to destroy the Communist regime and create a new China.”

“That was my goal. Not yours. Pangu no longer exists. You destroyed it. It’s a relic, like the empty figures that inspired it.

” She waved toward the hundreds of clay warriors.

Impressive but hollow. “As soon as I realized what you’d done, I wrapped it up.

Shut it down. Got as many out as possible.

Told the others to go to ground before you could turn them in. Pangu was blown.”

Liu leaned toward her. “My God, you really believe that. You have no idea that Pangu still exists. You thought you’d disbanded it, and I’m sure many did as you said.

But for some, they were in too deep. They would not give up.

As you’ve always said, Pangu was an idea, and ideas don’t die.

It’s more powerful, more determined, more militant than ever.

We need to know who they are. We need to find out who’s running it.

Pangu has already killed hundreds of thousands, and more will die unless we stop it. ”

This was a trick. This was the trap. “I don’t believe you.”

Liu nodded slowly, considering her. “The thing about young revolutionaries is that, if they survive, they grow old—”

“And useless. So I’ve heard.”

“Not all. Some give up. Have families. Lose the fire. But for others, the flame is fed. They grow old, but they also grow more committed. They rise through the ranks. Over time, some reach the highest level, where decisions are made.”

“Like you?” she said.

“That was our plan after all, wasn’t it?” said Liu, ignoring her. “The long-range plan, spread over decades, to get our young compatriots to rise into positions where they could make changes. Well, now they are.”

“It was never our plan to commit mass murder,” said Vivien.

“True, ours was to be an evolution. Hoping one of our Pangu members might even reach the Presidency and could bring about the changes we wanted. But our Pangu morphed into something dreadful. The frustration, the rage, the fire they nursed for years has broken out. It’s a conflagration. A wildfire. And it must be stopped.”

“Why now? Why act now?”

“Because technology has finally caught up with intent,” said Liu.

“The internet, AI, the supply chain that moves across borders, methods of delivery that were not dreamed of even a decade ago. It allows them to reach into our very homes and businesses. Into our heads. You saw what they did with those elevators. The mangled bodies. Tens of thousands—”

“That’s rich. How many men, women, children has the regime wiped out? And their crime? Daring to disagree with some policy of the State. And now you condemn Pangu for doing the same thing?”

“You can’t tell me you support what’s happened,” demanded Liu. “That’s madness.”

“That’s desperation.”

“So you agree with Pangu’s methods?”

Vivien was on the verge of saying that she did. If only to shock Liu. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

And Liu, who knew her well, could see that.

She shook her head. “I came here hoping to stop them.”

Liu nodded. “You and I, Viv, will never agree on many things. But I think we can agree that neither of us wants what’s going to happen next.”

“And what’s that?” she asked.

The thud, thud, thud of the helicopter had stopped. Whoever had been on it was off. Was it Chen? Was this a trap, to lure her here, keep her here, until the Apex Monster arrived?

“I don’t know,” Liu was saying. “Can they shut down the global power grids, sending the world back to the Dark Age? Can they open dams and floodgates, wiping out everything in the water’s path?

Whatever it is, it will be even worse than what’s already happened.

They’ll need to increase the terror. It will almost certainly cost hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of lives, and the end goal is the same. ”

“To overthrow the CCP?” said Vivien. “To end Communist rule? And then what? I don’t think whoever’s doing this has thought that far ahead.”

“But we have. Since those alarms, the intelligence agency has run the scenarios. Our neighbors would seize the moment and invade. Imagine a world where China fell under Russian control.”

“The Americans would never allow it,” said Vivien.

“And how would they stop it? Russia is right next door. America is not. The next attack must be stopped. You know it. I know it. Our needs really have aligned.”

Vivien nodded. She could see that. But … “I’m not the one you should be speaking to. Chen needs to speak to Pardington.”

“And say what? Deny that China’s behind it?

” said Liu. “Would your President believe it? The American fleet has left Japan and is heading toward us. President Chen has ordered our navy out, supposedly on maneuvers, but…” Liu lifted his hands.

“Soon it will pass the point of no return. Two superpowers—”

“Nuclear powers,” said Vivien. “Chen could try. You have his ear. Tell him he needs to convince Pardington. They need to stop this.”

“Chen listens to no one. And even if he does convince President Pardington, that doesn’t stop the terrorists. Your young American agent found something. We need to know what it was.”

“You’re talking about Liam Palmer. The man you murdered.”

“We didn’t kill him.”

“Then who did?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Liu. “Pangu did. The thing you and I created. We now need to destroy it. Before it destroys us all.”

“Vivien?” A small voice behind them spoke.

Vivien closed her eyes. It hadn’t been Chen on that helicopter but someone far worse.

“Mom?” Alice looked from her mother to the man beside her. “Dad?”