Foresight

by Ian Hamilton

  Uncle closed his eyes. “I can hardly think about that right now. I ache all over, and even talking for this small amount of time has tired me out.”

  “Get some more sleep,” Lin said.

  Uncle nodded, and then his head rolled slowly to one side.

  ( 31 )

  Sleep was rarely peaceful for Uncle. Most nights he suffered from terrifying, sweat-inducing dreams. There were two recurring scenarios. They could come to him separately, but on particularly bad nights they could follow one another, leading him from one predicament to the next, and occasionally they would even blend, forcing him to make choices that would leave him shaking when he woke.

  The most common dream was of being in the Bay of Shenzhen, trying to swim the four kilometres that separated the brutality of China from the freedom of Hong Kong. He had obviously made it, but three of his companions hadn’t, and one was the woman he loved and had intended to marry, Gui-San. He hadn’t seen her drown. He had been lying on a wooden door they were using as a raft, nauseated and feverish after ingesting a bellyful of the bay’s filthy water. She had been on her own in the water, and Uncle still couldn’t forgive himself for not having been at her side. Before they began the swim she had made him promise to be there, and he had failed her. In his dream he was almost glued to the door, clinging to it as if it was life itself, and it wasn’t because he was ill. It was fear that kept him there. He could hear his friends and Gui-San thrashing in the water around him, crying for help, but he kept his head down, pretending he didn’t. The dream was never clear about her actually dying, but he always woke filled with a depth of shame that never seemed to diminish.

  There was no shame attached to his second dream, just anger and desperation born from hopelessness. As he had told Liu Leji, his grandparents, parents, and sister had all starved to death. It had been slow, painful, and inevitable, and although he had done everything he could to find work and food, he had failed them as well. But it wasn’t from lack of effort; his dream had him travelling from Wuhan to their village with a basket filled with fruit and vegetables. It was a futile trip, because he was prevented from getting there at every turn. He was robbed; he slipped and the basket tumbled down a cliff; animals ate the food while he slept by the side of the road. On and on it went, the food always disappearing and Uncle never reaching the village.

  But if he dreamt while he was sedated at the military hospital, Uncle wasn’t aware of it. In fact, he was hardly aware of anything. He did wake several times, but only for what seemed like a few foggy minutes before he relapsed into sleep. Twice he heard muffled voices, the words indistinct, and he shrugged them off. Then came a voice calling his name loudly and insistently. He tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away, and finally he opened his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Chow, but it’s time you woke up,” said Dr. Song.

  Uncle shook his head as he slowly realized where he was. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said.

  Song smiled. “Good. So you know who I am?”

  “Of course, Doctor.”

  “Captains Ma and Lin have been coming here three times a day for the past two days. I didn’t want them to talk to you until I was sure you could be coherent,” Song said. “Now, for the record, what is my name?”

  “Doctor Song.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In a military hospital in Shenzhen.”

  “Perfect,” he said. “Now I’m going to have the nurse remove your catheter and IV, and then we’ll help you to the bathroom. When you’ve washed, we’ll send for something light for you to eat.”

  “I’ve been sleeping for two days?”

  “Off and on. I thought sedating you for that long was called for.”

  Called for or paid for? “What happens after I’ve eaten?”

  “I’ll call Captain Lin.”

  It took an hour to get Uncle from the bed to the bathroom and back and then fed a bowl of chicken broth and a plate of plain noodles.

  “How are you feeling?” Song asked when he was done.

  “I’m okay. I can walk, albeit slowly, and the pain in my back isn’t so severe.”

  “How is your head? I can give you some extra painkillers if you need them.”

  “I think I’ll manage.”

  “Are you ready for me to phone the captain?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Song hesitated and then said, “He asked me to call when you were awake and alert. I don’t think I should ignore his request.”

  “Call him,” Uncle said, then lay back on his pillow and wondered what, if anything, had happened during the previous forty-eight hours that might have had an impact on his situation.

  Song was gone for quite some time, and Uncle imagined he was having a problem contacting Lin. That thinking changed when a nurse entered the room carrying Uncle’s clothes. “Am I going somewhere?” Uncle asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I was told to bring your clothes here and help get you dressed.”

  “I can manage on my own. You don’t need to stay,” Uncle said. “When is Doctor Song returning?”

  “Soon,” the nurse said as she laid the clothes on the end of the bed. “Now, if you change your mind about needing help, just press the buzzer on the wall to your right.”

  Uncle didn’t move until she had left the room, and then it was only reluctantly. Why did they want him to get dressed? The last time it had been to take an ambulance ride to hell. He carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed and lowered himself to the floor. He felt surprisingly clear-headed and his legs were stable. He took several slow, careful steps to the end of bed, slipped off his hospital gown, and started to dress. He managed to get on his shirt, trousers, and suit jacket with only a few pauses to let the pain subside, but he knew he’d never be able to put on his socks. He thought about calling the nurse and decided it wasn’t worth it. He crossed the room and cautiously eased himself into the room’s only chair to wait for whoever would come through the door.

  “How are you feeling? The doctor says you’re making a decent recovery,” Ma said as he entered the room.

  “I haven’t been awake long enough,” Uncle said. “I was expecting to see the doctor.”

  “He’ll be by a bit later.”

  “And where is Captain Lin?”

  “He’ll be here in a minute; he’s looking for some extra chairs. We don’t want to stand over you while we talk.”

  “You want to talk to me already?”

  “You sound alert enough to me.”

  “Why did you want me to get dressed?” Uncle asked.

  “We want this to be as professional as possible under the circumstances.”

  “Circumstances I didn’t create.”

  “Let’s not waste our time going back over what has already happened,” Ma said. “General Ye has been incredibly patient while you recover.”

  “I have chairs,” Lin said from the doorway.

  Ma took a chair from his colleague and put it down next to Uncle’s. Lin placed his on the other side and sat.

  Uncle turned to Lin. “Do we really have to do this now? I would like more time to gather myself.”

  “Doctor Song says you’re in good enough condition to talk to us.”

  “I said I want to deal with you alone.”

  “The general has decided the two of us will represent his interests,” Lin said. “He hopes that your past experience with Captain Ma will make that acceptable.”

  “At least I know him, which is more than I can say about Guan,” Uncle said. “Does this mean the general still wants to reach some kind of settlement with me?”

  “Yes, he does, but we don’t have an infinite amount of time to get to that settlement. You know what he wants. This will boil down to what you’re prepared to give him,” Lin said.

  Since
Lin had arrived in the room, Uncle had been trying to detect in his voice or manner any sign that events in Beijing had moved favourably in his direction. Lin’s attitude was entirely professional, low-key and detached. “Before I start giving him anything, I need certainty that I will be able to resume my life in Hong Kong, intact both physically and mentally.”

  “The general has given his word,” Ma said.

  “I’m not taking anyone’s word for anything,” Uncle said. “I want certainty.”

  “How can we give you that?”

  “One of you could cross the border with me. When I’m safe, when I have two feet planted in Hong Kong, I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Why would we trust you do that?” Ma asked.

  “I’ll give you my word. Why should it be worth any less than the general’s?” Uncle said.

  “He would find that highly insulting.”

  “Then don’t tell him I said it,” Uncle said. “You can tell him instead that I’m the one with everything to lose, and when you think about it, that is the truth. If I try to play the general for a fool, I’ll make an enemy of the most powerful man in Shenzhen. How would that work out for me? At the least I assume he could make my businesses disappear and that my partner Ming could find his garment factories taken from him. Why would I throw all that away?”

  “He does have a lot at risk,” Lin said to Ma.

  “When did you come up with this idea?” Ma asked.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe around the time I was trying to figure out how to stop the general from killing me even if I told him everything I know.”

  “The general would not and will not kill you,” Ma said, his voice rising.

  “I’m sure Peng was told the same thing.”

  “There’s no reason to bring up Peng,” Lin said.

  “He’s my only point of reference when it comes to judging how the general conducts business.”

  Lin leaned towards Uncle. “Let’s focus on the future, shall we?”

  “That’s fine, but my future has to include me safely returning to Hong Kong.”

  “We understand what you want, but we aren’t in a position to agree to it.”

  “I expected you would have to talk to the general, so while you’re doing that, you can also tell him that I have another demand,” Uncle said.

  “Which is?” Ma asked.

  “I want a letter or memorandum or whatever from him indemnifying all my businesses from actions that the PLA or any branch of the Chinese government might take against them,” Uncle said. “I don’t know how to word such a thing, so I’ll leave that to the general.”

  “Why do you want that?” Ma asked.

  “What if the general isn’t pleased with what I have to say and decides to come after me?” Uncle said. “I’m not predicting he won’t be pleased, but I’m a cautious man, and not entirely trusting.”

  “Even if he agreed to do it, how could you enforce it?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d take my chances.”

  “What do you think?” Ma asked Lin.

  “Is that a hard condition?” Lin asked Uncle.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we have to present it to the general,” Lin said to Ma. “He can always say no. Truthfully I think it will annoy him, but there is a possibility he’ll go along with it.”

  Ma turned to Uncle. “Do you have any other conditions?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I think that’s enough as it is.”

  “So what happens now?” Uncle asked.

  “We’ll leave you here and go talk to the general,” Ma said.

  “When can I expect to see you again?”

  “Depending on how the general reacts, you may not see us,” Ma said, and then paused. “But in all likelihood you will, and probably quite quickly. The general is eager to get this resolved.”

  Uncle ignored the veiled threat. “In the meantime, am I allowed to leave this room? Can I finally make a phone call?”

  “No and no,” Ma said.

  ( 32 )

  Uncle expected Lin would linger, but he didn’t, and that left him uneasy. It was one thing for Lin to act detached; it was quite another for him not to acknowledge, even in the subtlest way, that things outside the hospital walls were still ongoing. Had Liu Huning lost the battle in Beijing? Had Lin decided that the safer side to be on was General Ye’s?

  “How are you feeling?” Dr. Song said as he walked through the door. “Your visitors didn’t upset you too much?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Let me check your pulse and blood pressure,” Song said, reaching for Uncle’s arm. A moment later he nodded. “Both are close to normal, but it might be a good idea for you to return to bed.”

  “No, I think I’ll sit up for a while.”

  “All right, but let us know if there’s anything you need.”

  Uncle nodded. “Could you answer a few questions for me?”

  “That depends on the questions.”

  “I can see through the window that it’s light outside, but I don’t know the actual time. What is it?”

  “Four-twenty.”

  “And one more thing. How many other people are there in the secure area of the hospital?”

  “None. You are our only patient.”

  “You mean prisoner.”

  “As far as the medical staff are concerned, you are a patient,” Song said.

  “As nice as that sounds, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here against my wishes.”

  “That isn’t our decision to make.”

  “Doctor, what would happen if I tried to leave?”

  “The medical staff wouldn’t intervene, but the two armed guards standing outside your door most certainly would.”

  Uncle leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He was trapped and no one was coming to his aid. That thought and a gnawing sense of desperation began to creep into his mind. He fought against it, trying to find the inner core that was his retreat in times of crisis, the place where no one could touch him.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to return to bed?” Song asked. “You look pale.”

  “Yes, maybe I will,” Uncle said. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll just lie on top with my clothes on.”

  Uncle groaned as he started to rise from the chair, and the doctor reached for his arm to help him stand up. He wavered when he finally got to his feet, and for a second he thought he was going to fall, but gradually his legs became steady. “My back hurts like hell,” he said.

  “There isn’t much we can do for it. It will heal, but it will take time.”

  Uncle shuffled to the bed and eased himself onto it.

  “I assume the officers will be returning,” Song said.

  “Yes, but I have no idea when.”

  “If I’m not here when they do, I’d like to wish you the best of luck.”

  “That sounds ominous,” Uncle said with a slight smile.

  “Most of the visitors to this part of the hospital don’t leave as happy men.”

  “Let’s hope I’m the exception.”

  “Let’s hope you are,” Song said, and then started towards the door.

  Uncle watched him leave and then heard what he thought was a deadbolt locking. How long would he have to wait for Ma and Lin? Or would it be Guan who showed up? He folded his arms across his chest, his fingers intertwined. If he didn’t move, the pain in his back lessened, but nothing could keep his mind from doing somersaults. He began to struggle with a potential problem he hadn’t foreseen when he had agreed to Lin’s suggestion that they negotiate as a way to buy time. What would he do if General Ye agreed to all his conditions?

  He would go to Hong Kong, that much was clear, but for the rest it was an incredible muddle. Once
he got there, if he told Ye the truth about the Liu family, they’d be completely vulnerable and at risk. Was Liu Huning close enough to Premier Deng to be able to protect his wife, son, and daughter-in-law? Could he protect himself? Uncle had no way to know, just as, he admitted, he had no way of knowing if Ye would honour an agreement to leave the gang’s businesses intact. It was possible, he thought, that all he might get from doing a deal with Ye was his freedom. Was that worth destroying the Liu family and possibly Ming, and losing a large majority of the gang’s financial capital? Even if it was possible, it was far from being certain, he reminded himself.

  On the other hand, if he got to Hong Kong and then continued to insist that he knew nothing about the Liu family’s activities, and if he swore they had no financial interest in the warehouses, he might be able to shield them. But he was one hundred percent sure Ye would then unleash the full force of the PLA against Ming and all the gang’s businesses. They’d have no chance of surviving, and neither he nor Fong would ever again be able to set foot in China.

  So, sell out the Lius and hope to be able to hang on to the gang’s businesses, or stay true to his partners and watch years of work and capital accumulation disappear? “Fuck,” he said, angry at himself for not having thought things through when Lin had suggested they start negotiating. He had been tired, battered, and weak, but that was no excuse for being sloppy.

  His earlier despair returned. What if Ye wouldn’t do a deal? What if they took him back to the cells? What if it came down to him and Guan? At least it would be a resolution, he thought, because he knew he’d never give in to him, and if he didn’t, he would die. “I should have been dead twenty years ago,” he whispered. “There’s nothing Ye or Guan can do to match the pain of knowing I’ve stolen that time from Gui-San and my friends.”

  He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the room was dark, and Uncle realized he had slept. Sunset came around six-thirty, but beyond that he had no idea what time it was. He turned and pressed the buzzer on the wall. A moment later the door opened and a nurse entered.