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‘You guys certainly know how to brush that one under the carpet,’ snorted Jericho. ‘You drive German, French and Korean cars, wear Italian shoes, watch American films; I can’t think of any other nationality that has turned more to the outside in recent years than yours.’

‘Turned to the outside?’ Tu laughed drily. ‘Nicely put, Owen. And what comes to light when you turn to the outside? Whatever’s inside. But what is it that you see? What exactly are we turning towards the outside? Only what you recognise. You wanted us to open up? We did that, in the eighties under Deng Xiaoping. You wanted to do business with us? You’re doing it. Everything that Chinese emperors didn’t want from you over the centuries, we’ve bought from you in a matter of a few years, and you
sold
it to us willingly. Now we’re selling it back to you, and you
buy
it! And on top of all that you have a fancy for a good portion of authentic China. And you get that too, but you don’t like it. You get all worked up about us walking all over human rights, but in essence you just don’t understand how anyone can be imprisoned for his opinion in a land that drinks Coca-Cola. That doesn’t compute to you. Your ethnologists lament the disappearance of the last cannibals and plead for the preservation of their living space, but woe betide them if they start to do business and wear ties. If they did, you’d want them to downgrade back to chicken and vegetables in the blink of an eye.’

‘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 all: 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.’

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.’

‘In any other circumstances I would agree with you. But the way Yoyo’s protection is set up means she could have decoding programs which are much more advanced than the norm. We wouldn’t have asked you to come to Shanghai if we weren’t seriously concerned about this.’

‘I’m as worried as you are. But what concerns me most is how sketchy your information is, if I may be so honest.’

‘And what have you found out?’ asked the voice, without responding to Xin’s comment.

‘I went to her apartment. Two flatmates. One knows nothing, and the other says he could take me to her. He wants money of course.’

‘Do you trust him?’

‘Are you crazy? I have no choice but to follow every lead. He’ll be in touch, but I’ve no idea what will come of it.’

‘Did she not mention any relatives to either of the flatmates?’

‘Yoyo doesn’t exactly seem that communicative. They were having some drinks
together on the night of 23 May, then she disappeared sometime between two and three in the morning.’

A short pause followed.

‘That could fit,’ said the voice thoughtfully. ‘The contact materialised just before two, Chinese time.’

‘And then she immediately takes off.’ Xin smiled thinly. ‘Clever kid.’

‘Where else have you been?’

‘In her room. Nothing. No computer. She did a great job of clearing everything up before she disappeared. There’s no trace of her at the university either, and it wasn’t possible to see her file. I could arrange to do so, but I’d prefer it if you took care of that. I’m sure you can get into the university’s database.’

‘Which university?’

‘Shanghai University, Shangda Lu, in the Bao Shan District.’

‘Kenny, I don’t need to remind you how explosive this thing is. So step up the pace! We need this girl’s computer. Without fail!’

‘You’ll get it,
and
the girl,’ said Xin, ending the call.

He stared back out into the urban desert.

The computer. He had no doubt that Yoyo had it with her. Xin wondered what the reasons for her overhasty departure had been. She must have realised that someone had not only noticed her hacking and started a counter-attack on her system, but that they had also downloaded her data, and therefore knew her identity. That was reason enough for concern, but not to flee in panic. Quite a few networks protected themselves by launching a lightning attack to deactivate the computers which had intentionally or unintentionally hacked into theirs and, if possible, they transferred the hacker’s data right away. That alone wasn’t enough. There must have been something else to make Yoyo think she wasn’t safe any more.

There was only one possible explanation.

Yoyo had read something she wasn’t supposed to have read.

Which meant the encoding had temporarily failed. An error in the system. A hole had unexpectedly opened up and provided her access. If that was the case, the consequences really could be terrible! The question was how quickly the hole had closed up again. Not quickly enough, that much was clear; just that brief glimpse had been enough to make the girl take flight.

But how much did she really know?

He needed more than the computer. He had to find Yoyo before she had the chance to pass on what she knew. The only hope so far was Grand Cherokee Wang. Quite a poor hope, admittedly. But when had hope ever been more than certainty’s
pitiful sister? In any case, the guy would sell Yoyo, and her computer included, the second she so much as set foot back in the apartment.

Xin frowned. Something in the way he was standing displeased him. He took a step backwards until he was positioned exactly between two joists, the tips of his shoes at equal distance from where the floor bordered the window.

There, that was better.

‘I’ve known Yoyo since the day she was born,’ said Tu. ‘She was just like any normal teenager while she was growing up, her brain full of romantic ideas. Then she experienced something that changed her. Nothing spectacular, but I think it was one of those crossroads in life when you decide who you’re going to be. Have you heard of Mian Mian?’

‘The author?’

‘Yes, that’s the one.’

Jericho thought for a moment. ‘It must be an eternity since I read one of her books. She was a figurehead of the scene, right? Quite popular in Europe. I remember being amazed that she made it past the censorship.’

‘Oh, her books were banned for a long time! But by now she can do whatever she wants. When Shanghai declared itself to be the nightlife and party capital, she represented the area of conflict between glamour and the gutter, because she knew and could speak convincingly about both. Today, she’s a kind of patron saint of the local art scene. In her mid-fifties, established, even the Party uses her as a figurehead. In the summer of 2016 she gave a reading from her new novel, in Guan Di in Fuxing Park shortly before it was torn down, and Yoyo went along. Afterwards, she had the chance to speak with Mian Mian, and they ended up doing a crawl around the clubs and galleries which lasted many hours. After that, it was like she was intoxicated. You have to appreciate the symbolic coincidence, you see. Mian Mian started writing when she was sixteen, as an immediate consequence of her best friend committing suicide, and Yoyo had just turned sixteen.’

‘So she decided to become a writer.’

‘She decided to change the world. To some extent, it was romantically motivated, but she also had an admirably clear take on reality. At around that time my own star was beginning to rise. I knew Chen Hongbing from the nineties and liked
him a great deal. He entrusted his daughter to me because he believed she could learn from me. Yoyo had always been very fond of the virtual world; she practically lived on the internet. She was particularly interested in the vanishing dividing lines between the actual world and the artificial one. In 2018 I was elected onto the board of Dao IT, and Yoyo was just getting to grips with her studies at the time. Chen supported her as much as he could, but she placed a lot of importance on earning her own money. When she heard I was taking over the department for Virtual Environments, she pestered me to find a job for her there.’