The Secret Chamber (23 page)

‘Lanso!’ Luca screamed, letting Abasi slide to the ground. He cupped his hands around his mouth against the deafening noise of the helicopter. ‘Lanso! Run!’

Abasi was already sprinting forward towards his brother, bow clutched in his left hand, when the ground became a blaze of fire and sound. The 20mm cannon opened up, strafing a line of bullets across the rock and sawing Lanso in two. The ground shook as the cannon changed angle,
sending
bullets thudding into the rock next to Luca. He could see the tracer rounds glancing off in streaks of phosphorescent light, while around him clouds of dust exploded in the air, laced with splintered branches.

Luca doubled over as he instinctively tried to protect his face. He lost his footing and toppled forward over the edge of the cliff, raising his hands as a tree branch smashed into his stomach, driving the wind out of him. Leaves were whipping across his back and head as he landed square in a thick bush. There was a brittle snapping sound of branches, before finally he connected with the muddy ground below.

Luca lay still, listening to the shallow gasps of his own breathing as he tried to draw air into his lungs. His chest jerked in spasm, while above he was dimly aware of the beat of rotors somewhere much higher in the canopy. He squinted as light came flickering through the tree branches, watching it for a moment until the edges of his vision clouded over and everything went black.

XIE STOOD AT
the entrance to the aircraft hangar, dwarfed by the colossal sliding doors. He checked his watch, squinting as his eyes took in the endless criss-cross of beams supporting the hangar’s roof. Everything had been painted a drab military green and the supports stretched for hundreds of metres, fading to darkness somewhere high in the distance.

Xie inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of engineering grease and the charred remains of the satellite wreckage. Over the last week, the wreckage had been laboriously sorted into piles, with angular piping and once expensive Space Age materials heaped together in carefully denoted type and order. A few lab-coated technicians now moved between the piles with clipboards and scanners.

One of the technicians finally glanced up from his work and immediately hurried over to where Xie stood, waiting patiently with an old leather briefcase gripped in one hand. He bowed low, ushering the visitor past the armed guards.

‘I didn’t see you, sir,’ he apologised. ‘It’s not yet eleven
o’clock
and … well, I was just preparing some extra documentation … for you, sir.’

Xie gave a tired smile, the dry skin around his eyes creasing like old paper. ‘It’s OK, Captain. I arrived a little early.’

‘Yes, indeed sir,’ the Captain replied, surprised to be treated so cordially. He had only taken orders from General Jian before and had quickly learned that he was not a man to be left waiting. ‘May I offer you some tea?’

Xie nodded gratefully. His brown linen suit was creased across the back and shoulders so that it looked as if he had woken up in it that morning, while his tie was twisted slightly to one side. He seemed to be in no hurry to begin.

He had in fact been awake almost the entire night, reading through the crash report submitted by Jian’s investigation team. It had made for dry reading with a huge amount of technical detail which he didn’t fully understand, but one thing had become apparent and that was the absence of some of the key materials used in building a satellite. When he compared it with the inventory of raw components he had procured direct from the manufacturers, there was a significant gap. He wondered if this was simply due to the fact that they hadn’t managed to recover all the pieces from the crash site. With such an enormous explosion, presumably a lot of the satellite would have been permanently lost.

A few minutes later, Xie was clutching a small bowl of steaming tea, smiling distractedly as the aromatic vapour wafted under his nose. He took a sip, his smile widening as if it was the first cup of tea he had drunk in years.

‘Captain,’ he said softly, ‘I understand you have done superb work in recovering the wreckage from the satellite.’

He paused, allowing the man time to enjoy the compliment. ‘Very detailed work, and it seems you have managed to recover nearly everything.’

The Captain nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, sir. We believe we have recovered nearly ninety-five per cent of the original components. It was an exhaustive process, but we pride ourselves on being thorough.’

‘Quite so.’

Xie looked at the young captain, with his smart bearing and open face. There was something naturally forthright about him. He had an obvious desire to please, coupled with a delight in the slightest hint of appreciation. Such people rarely told lies, unless by mistake, and Xie found himself almost warming to him. In his line of work, such types rarely crossed his path.

‘Ninety-five per cent,’ he repeated. ‘Very impressive. But I noticed quite a few components were missing from the inventory lists. Could they still be lost out there?’

The Captain looked uneasy. ‘I’m afraid you have to expect some missing items, sir. But we have already highlighted the items not yet accounted for in the report, and as I say, it’s only five per cent of the total.’

‘And you check through each item? You know what each part was originally?’

‘I am afraid not, sir. Our remit was to find everything on the manufacturer’s inventory. But it’s a hugely detailed list, sir, and I can assure you, we’ve double-checked every item.’

‘I don’t doubt that for a second, but could you just let me have a copy of the list for my files? Routine stuff, but someone has to wade through the red tape.’

The Captain nodded sympathetically. ‘Please follow me.’

Once Xie had sipped the last of his tea, the Captain ushered him over to an enclave on the side of the hangar which had been set up as a temporary office. An array of high-tech scanners were positioned in neat rows next to a large set of weighing scales. Around them stood a collection of trestle tables arranged in a semicircle, with laptops open on each.

‘Just here, sir,’ the Captain offered. Xie perched on a swivel chair and took out the dossier sent direct to him by the manufacturers. He ran down the list while scrolling through the Captain’s Excel file on the computer, comparing like with like.

‘Tell me, Captain,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘how did the actual satellite launch go wrong? And use laymen’s terms, please. I get a bit bewildered by technology.’

The Captain drew himself up to his full height.

‘We believe that moments after the launch sequence was initiated, the right aft joint seal blew off, causing a combustion gas leak which in turn ruptured the integrity of the main tanks. The ensuing explosion moved …’

Xie raised his hand.

‘And what caused the right aft joint seal to blow off in the first place?’

‘I am afraid we are still working on that, sir. We haven’t found the missing pieces, but the General himself reached that conclusion.’

‘General Jian came to this conclusion
personally
?’

‘That is correct, sir. It was added to the report only yesterday.’

Xie smiled pensively. ‘Yes, I remember him saying as much. The right aft joint seal.’

He turned back to the paper on the desk. He had already underlined twelve items that were totally absent from the list on the Captain’s computer and, as he worked his way down, there were others. He paused, letting the graphite of the pencil gently rest against the computer screen.

Someone had deliberately doctored the investigation team’s list. There were too many discrepancies for this to be some kind of clerical error. But what were they trying to hide?

Xie remained silent for a moment, his pencil hovering over a couple of items in particular.

‘Tell me, Captain, did you ever come across any parts of the helical antenna or circuitry for the transponder systems?’

The Captain looked up, surprised. ‘I don’t believe we did, sir, but I am sure it would be listed here if there was anything.’

‘And what about traces of lithium from the battery system? Would they have been picked up by the scanners?’

‘They would indeed. But I don’t believe we found any, sir.’

‘Then where are these missing pieces?’

The Captain suddenly looked uncomfortable. His tongue darted over his lips several times before he actually responded. ‘I am afraid that we have a very specific brief. It is not permitted to question matters outside our remit.’

‘But didn’t it strike you as odd that none of the components from the actual satellite was found amongst the wreckage?’

The Captain was well accustomed to the General’s virulent temper and had been told to expect that a high-ranking Party member would ask for a personalised account of the situation. He was sure that such men didn’t tolerate their questions going unanswered either. He waited for the inevitable outburst, but Xie only eased himself up from his seat, smiling amiably.

‘I am sure I must have missed it in your report,’ he said. ‘No matter, Captain. I shall have another look. And in the meantime, do keep up the good work.’

The curved, gilt-edged roofs of the Yu Yuan Gardens teahouse cast a shadow over the surrounding lake. The water had long since turned phosphorescent green from the summer algae, offsetting the building’s vibrant red woodwork and ornate stone carvings. Normally, the teahouse was the exclusive preserve of the Shanghai elite, with long waits for tables, even for those with contacts in the Party.

Today, the entire venue had been sealed off, with a handpicked team of PLA Special Forces wearing civilian clothing discreetly positioned at either end of the lake’s zigzagging walkway. The General Secretary of the Party’s Politburo, Kai Long Pi, was marrying off his third son to the Governor of Chengdu’s illustrious daughter, Li Ling, and in doing so cementing yet another alliance within the Guild. It had been an open secret for some time now that the Governor was vying for Kai’s position as head of the Guild, but with this
match
the hatchet was to be buried, and their feud finally put to rest.

Kai had come to realise that the Guild as a collective entity must not have its factions competing openly in the final stages of the Goma Project. There was just too much at stake. And so a marriage had been swiftly arranged. Marriage, and by extension family, was still the best way to seal an agreement.

Kai sat in his wheelchair at the head of the table, arms folded across his lap while he watched the newly-weds parade between the aisles of guests. His son, Qingshan, could not have hoped for a better arrangement and Kai stared hard at the Governor’s daughter, his old eyes magnified by heavily rimmed glasses. She was indeed beautiful and her red silk wedding dress nothing less than the epitome of refinement and tradition. She looked very graceful, confidently chatting with each of the assembled guests, while Qingshan stood at her side, nodding vaguely, too shy to acknowledge his guests properly. It almost looked as if he were struggling to follow the formalities of the marriage ceremony.

A troop of Kai’s grandchildren followed the bride and groom, ranked by age and all wearing matching silk outfits. Kai allowed himself a slight smile. His younger grandchildren were his one weakness in life. At seventy-five years old, after losing the use of his legs, he had taken stock of his life again. He now made a point of making time for them in his schedule each day. Only for five minutes, but it was enough.

As Qingshan sat down with a sigh of relief, Li Ling approached Kai’s table and with a bow delicately poured
a
single cup of tea. She did it with the flowing ease of ritualised custom, her eyes lowered with due deference. Kai took the proffered cup, and with that formally accepted her into his family. But as he took his first sip, he glanced across the crowded room to see a man leaning against one of the heavy wooden pillars. The man’s dishevelled appearance immediately singled him out. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week. Kai knew Xie’s hangdog face well, and with the slightest inclination of his head beckoned him closer.

Steadily working his way through the ranks of well-dressed guests, Xie approached discreetly, hovering beside one of the nearby annexes until Kai signalled for his wheelchair to be eased back from the table.

‘Many congratulations on your son’s marriage,’ Xie said to him, bowing low and presenting him with a small red envelope held out in both hands. Kai’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly he was impressed. Too many of the youngsters ignored the old ways, sacrificing everything from the past for the sake of expediency. But Xie was different, even observing the old marriage rituals. It was one of the reasons why Kai trusted him to be his right-hand man.

‘You said that you have discovered some discrepancies?’ he prompted.

Xie nodded slowly, averting his eyes as he always did. He was conscious of towering over Kai and always tried to keep a respectful distance between them, but it was difficult within the confines of the teahouse. Even before he had to use the wheelchair, Kai had only ever been a moderately sized man,
but
now age seemed to have shrunk him further. He looked up at Xie, the lids of his eyes heavy and tired.

Xie coughed. ‘We have gone through a number of files and it seems that the actual satellite is missing from the wreckage. The inventory the technicians were using was also doctored.’