The Thought Cathedral

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The Thought Cathedral Page 30

by Nathan Williams


  Lyn Lee sat in silence as her body jostled in response to the gentle rhythm of the six line as it sped southbound toward Lower Manhattan. She glanced at Xiang, sitting next to her on her right. He’d pulled a cigarette out and had it in his left hand, waiting to emerge from the railcar before lighting it. He sat staring, emotionless, his eyes half closed. The faint beginnings of a smirk had settled onto his face and his hair was, as usual, slightly disheveled. It was his typical default look of peaceful contentment. She imagined him already thinking about the nicotine high he was soon to enjoy.

  Lee inhaled the smells, sounds, and colors on the subway. The rail was flooded with the quiet, steady thrum of voices and the occasional throbbing of beats thumping from pairs of headphones. A blur of contrasting shapes and neon lights sped by, overlapped by the muted, translucent reflections of the diverse mix of passengers congregated tightly inside the rail car. A vertical string of jagged ice that had formed outside one of the windows cast a small prism at certain times when the light hit it just right. For some reason, this made her think of her Brooklyn key. She searched through her purse to verify it was still there.

  They were coming from Midtown, where their rail journey had begun. Xiang had asked if she wanted to attend a gathering of his friends, some of whom had traveled from China. She’d accepted the invitation without hesitation. Anything to build trust.

  And she was glad now that she’d gone. Xiang’s relatives had been much more warm and spontaneous than she’d anticipated, though she’d sometimes had a difficult time following conversations. They’d spoken Chinese for most of the evening and, much of the time, in dialects she’d been unable to fully comprehend. But Xiang had luxuriated in the presence of these people. She’d felt a relaxation and spontaneity from Xiang that she’d never seen before.

  There was also a warmth that had come from Xiang that was still there, even now. It was cold in the railcar and she seemed to draw, if only psychologically, from the warmth he was radiating as he sat staring ahead out of the window.

  She felt the train brake and come to a grinding halt. The crowded car gradually thinned as passengers disembarked. A middle-aged man was seated directly across from her and Xiang and holding his young girl aloft in his arms. The girl, who held a small plastic flashlight, had breathed on the window near the man’s head. In a near miraculous play of light, a red rose had formed spontaneously from the girl’s icy breath. The red light from the girl’s flashlight had bled through the icy bloom of the girl’s precipitation, while the glow from a small green light at the edge of the train’s window had played upon the thin vein of frozen ice she’d noticed earlier. The green light turned the tiny frozen rivulet of ice into a stem, snaking its way up into the red plume.

  Lee nudged at Xiang. “Xiang, look at that.” She pointed at the impromptu flower. “Don’t you think that sometimes you see something that’s beyond coincidence, as though it’s a sign that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be in life at that particular time?”

  Xiang followed her finger and grinned. “Ah, nice. A rose unexpected.”

  “You think it’s a sign of some kind?”

  Xiang shrugged. “Could be?”

  Xiang leaned into her and kissed her on her cheek. She laughed gently, more to herself than to Xiang, and looked back at him. Her eyes met his. He leaned in again and she turned toward him and let him kiss her softly on the lips. He reached for her hand. She took it into her own.

  “Had to be a sign for something, right?” Xiang said.

  She smiled. They sat in silence for a while, holding hands. The rose remained for a few seconds longer, until the man re-positioned the girl onto his lap.

  “That flower reminds me of one of the scientists I spoke with when we were on the Imperial Empress,” Lee said.

  “Which scientist?”

  “It was Dr. Oscar Nostra, I want to say.”

  “Ah, yes, I know of Dr. Nostra. I think he works out of an institute somewhere in Spain.”

  “He was talking about how plants use quantum physics in the process of photosynthesis, where they convert light to chemical energy. It may play a large role in how efficient the process is.”

  “How does quantum physics come into play?”

  “Well, specifically he was explaining the concept of coherence within a plant. Coherence helps the energy of elementary particles of light, or photons, find the most efficient path to the reaction center where the energy is converted into carbohydrates. When this light energy strikes a plant, it doesn’t only follow one pathway through a given cell but, rather, it follows multiple paths simultaneously. Thus, the light is able to instantaneously find the most efficient pathway to the reaction center. Dr. Nostra thinks this is why plants are able to harvest as much as ninety-five percent of the energy they soak up.”

  Xiang thought for a moment. “I see. So this action has similarities to the quantum principle of superposition?”

  Lee thought about Xiang’s assertion. The superposition principle was a remarkable and controversial piece of the standard model of physics that asserts that a physical system, a subatomic particle in particular, exists in all of its theoretical physical states simultaneously, but when measured or observed, gives a result corresponding to only one of its states. Thus, a sub-atomic particle, an electron for example, can exist in all its possible statesimultaneously until it is either observed or measured, at which time it exists only in the measured state. It was a difficult concept to wrap one’s mind around and it was, on the surface, antithetical to the physics of Einstein’s General Relativity.

  “I suppose so. It’s the property of light existing in all possible states simultaneously, as Dr. Nostra had described. Hard to wrap my mind around that.”

  “It’s a very difficult principle to come to terms with, for sure,” Xiang said. “It reduces the state of a given subatomic particle to a system of probabilities. You can observe a subatomic particle in one state and then, on a second observation, it can be in a different state entirely. Some states have higher probability than others, but you don’t know until it’s observed. Very hard to come to terms with.”

  “I wish I could take advantage of superposition,” Lee said, “and be in multiple states at once. Maybe I could actually get everything done that I need to.”

  A wry smile crept across Xiang’s face. “I think if I had to relate to you in multiple states, I’d short-circuit.”

  “Ahhh, I’m not that hard to be around, am I, Xiang?”

  Xiang took a sip from a steaming coffee. Then he shrugged. “I’d argue that you already exist in multiple states. I mean that in a good way.”

  “In what way do you mean?”

  “I just mean that you’re a complex person. But this makes you more interesting.”

  They sat in silence for a while longer, feeling the vibration of the train as it hurtled along the tracks. A few moments later, Lee felt the momentum of the train slow and come to a stop.

  “Let’s exit here,” Xiang said. As Lee followed Xiang out of the rail station, she saw that it was the 14th Street-Union Square station.

  “Isn’t this a little too far north if we’re going to your place?” Lee asked.

  “A little bit. I want to go someplace else first.”

  Since they’d exited out onto 15th Street, Lee followed Xiang west on 15th for a couple of blocks and then south a block before turning westbound again on 14th Street at Avenue of the Americas.

  “Where are we going?” Lee asked.

  “I’ll show you. We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

  A little less than fifteen minutes later, still on 14th Street, they’d made it to the west side of Manhattan near the shoreline. Lee noted that they were now approaching the old meatpacking district near Pier 54. Instinctively, Lee felt her pulse quicken. She clenched her fists and she could feel how, despite the cold, her palms were sweaty.

  “Why are you taking me here, Xiang?”

  “You’ll see.”

&nb
sp; They turned left on Washington Street and walked a block south. Xiang finally stopped on the corner of 13th and Washington Streets next to a very old multistory brick building that had been converted into a series of retail shops.

  “Please don’t be angry at me for bringing you here,” Xiang said. “I really like you. So I’m just really curious. Does this building have any meaning to you?”

  In a rush of emotion, Lee felt overcome with a feeling of cold and fear, though she did not show this to Xiang. She found herself disbelieving that Xiang had found this place but, certainly, his curiosity showed in the way he held her gaze. She peered into his raven eyes, into his pupils. She saw only blackness for a few moments. The blackness enveloped her and dissolved into shades of gray and brown, casting shadows made from metal pipes, fencing, and machinery. She heard in her mind the monotonous echoing of water dripping, the clank of metal on metal, the dull roar of flame.

  “I worked here for a while,” Lee said. “In the summer of 1999.”

  Xiang frowned. “What was this place then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what was it used for?”

  “When I worked there it was a tool-and-dye manufacturing facility.”

  Xiang’s facial expression was one of surprise. “Interesting.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “That’s all it means to you? Just an old employer?”

  Lee stepped toward Xiang. “Why are you asking me about this, Xiang? How did you come to know this place?”

  “I found a newspaper article. From a while back.” Xiang handed her a piece of paper with a copy of a short news article printed on it. “I was just curious.”

  The article was dated July 17, 1997. Lee quickly read through the small blurb, which had no title.

  Police were called to two locations in the early morning hours of Thursday, July 17 in response to an incident that, according to sources, began in Chinatown and ended nearly an hour later in a factory building in the Meatpacking District at West 13th and Washington. According to witnesses, the chase began as far south as Chinatown and proceeded north into Gramercy Park before turning west and ending inside the factory building located just east of Pier 54.

  Witnesses also reported gunfire at several points along the route. Police have reported one fatality and have made several arrests at both locations. Emergency crews were called in to treat an unknown number of victims both in Chinatown and inside the factory, some of whom were reportedly in critical condition. Listed among the injured and taken to area hospitals were David Chou (18), Jinhai Lee (15), JC Kong (17), Larry Zhao (20), Mulan Xie (19), Lynette Lee (12), and Peter Ning Fu (16), all of Chinatown, Manhattan.

  “We’re reasonably certain this is gang related,” said NYPD Captain Neil Worthington. “There’s been heightened activity in the Chinatown gangs all summer long. A lot related to turf wars over heroin distribution. We’re disappointed with this to say the least. We’d thought the incident last week was going to be the last of it. The end of a long, hot summer. Guess we were wrong.”

  Authorities have not publicly identified the deceased pending notification of next of kin.

  Slipping into Lee’s mind again was the darkness and the metallic sounds. Shades of gray and brown coalesced into hydraulic, pneumatic, or mechanical equipment utilized in the production of metal pieces. She slunk in the darkness behind one of the presses she’d used to cut, bend, or drill metal pieces.

  A soft, slow, rhythmic shuffling of feet. The shuffling closing in, getting closer and closer. A tiny click and a sudden pale, dim light. More shuffling. Another click. Light again. Reaching forward. Sweaty hands shaking. Cold metal. Twisting to her right, slowly peering around the corner of the press. Scattered light from florescent lamps. Sliding into a dusty clearing is bloody Jimmy Fang in the pale light. There’s a black metal spiral staircase behind him. White tank top. Bulging muscles. Strange tattoos. Black circles around bloodshot eyes with a black dot in the middle. Sleeping serpent on the nose. Buddha’s Eyes. Dagger in hand. Where are you, Jin? Jin! Jin!

  Lee’s eyes burst open. She’d felt pressure on her wrist. Xiang stood near to her, his hand on her wrist. “Are you okay, Lyn?”

  “Yes. I’m fine, Xiang.”

  “Are you sure? Something really took ahold of you for a moment there.”

  Lee took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She looked Xiang in the eye.

  “Why did you bring me here, Xiang?”

  Xiang threw his hands back, feigning exasperation. “Honestly, Lyn. I was just curious. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

  Lee took a deep breath and let the cold feeling and the fear pass. “There’s really nothing much to tell.”

  “I’m interested in hearing what you’re willing to talk about.”

  “Can we head back to Midtown? I don’t want to be near this place.”

  “Of course.”

  They walked for a while in silence. Questions swirled through her mind. Why would he do this? Why now? She then remembered her responsibility with the FBI. How should I handle this? She decided to tell him the truth, just not all of it.

  “There really isn’t much to tell, Xiang. It’s just…my brother got into trouble with the gangs.”

  “Which gang?”

  She snapped at him a bit. “Does it matter?”

  “No, of course not. Just curious. Please go on.”

  “My brother kept getting himself deeper and deeper with the gangs. The gangs were a big problem back then. Much more so than today.”

  “How so?”

  “For one thing, the police weren’t as active in Chinatown as they have been in recent years. And, as you know, my parents own a bakery. Back then, for the first few years when we had the bakery going, you had to pay money in order to protect the business. There was so much gang activity and it was necessary to pay a premium to the local gang to keep other gangs away from the store and to prevent you from being forced into damaging business practices. So, my father would meet once a month with the local gang leader and negotiate this premium.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “So Jin, my brother, decided to be too smart for his own good. He went to the local gang and offered his services to them in exchange for a reduction in my father’s premium.”

  “What services did he offer?”

  “Well, I don’t think he offered to do anything specific. But, it happened that the local gang, the Green Dragons, had been actively participating in and enforcing a heroin distribution ring from the harbor. One of the senior members of the gang happened to have gotten killed off right before Jin went in. So, through a domino effect, another spot opened up to run heroin for the ring. So, of course, my brother took on that role. This, of course, was all without prior knowledge or consent from my parents.

  “So, Jin did this for a few months and got to where he was really earning the trust of the bosses. They started giving him more challenging routes and giving him more responsibility and information. About this time, the Dragons decided to try and take over the territory of a neighboring gang. The opposing gang decided to get retribution by murdering one of the Dragons. So then, of course, the Dragons had to retaliate and everything started to escalate.

  “Well, it happens that Jin found out through word of mouth that one of his best friends was being targeted by the rival gang. Since Jin had, by this time, learned some of the Dragons’ best methods for distributing the heroin as well as some of the best routes, Jin offered to exchange that information for his friend’s life. Of course, once the Dragon leadership found out about this, Jin was in trouble with them too. So, everything just spiraled out of control.”

  “So, how did you end up involved in it?”

  “Well, I found out through word of mouth that Jin was being targeted by some of the Dragons. But I had an exact time and location. I found out just in time, the same day in fact. I spent the next few hours trying to track him down. During those months, we ne
ver knew for sure where he was.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I finally got through via phone to let him know. Jin was at one of his friend’s house. However, it wasn’t enough to prevent the attack entirely. The Dragons’ had been following him, so they knew where he was. They caught him later that night and carried out the attack but, at least, Jin and his friends were somewhat prepared for it.”

  “I understand.”

  “I was never really involved. That article is deceiving, Xiang. I showed up at the factory after everything had already gone down, looking for Jin. They did take me to the hospital, but only because they found me there with Jin.”

  “What happened to Jin after that?”

  “My father had to negotiate with the Dragons to let him go—release him from his obligations, so to speak. We ended up having to pay a larger premium than we’d ever had to pay prior to this incident, as a sort of punishment. That’s why we started a poker casino and restaurant. It was illegal, but we didn’t have a choice. The premiums were too high, and we needed another source of income.”

  “That had to be a scary time for you and your family.”

  “Yes, it was. But we did get through it.”

  “You did.”

  They continued eastbound back to the subway. As they walked, Lee began to question more why Xiang had brought the incident with Jin up now and what may have triggered him to look for such information to begin with. Things had been going so well. She was surprised that Xiang had introduced such a heavy topic at this point in the relationship. It made her ponder whether Xiang was probing her for a weakness or something he could exploit. Is he playing me like I’m playing him?

  New York City

  Friday, February 20, 1:14 a.m. EST

  FBI translator and analyst Terry Phong sipped on a cup of coffee and rubbed his bloodshot eyes again. He glanced at the portable clock he’d placed on the desk in between two of the four computer monitors. 1:14 a.m. He’d been on duty for going on twelve hours and, fortunately, his current shift ended at two, which was when Burghoff would take over. He kept a photo of Cynthia Phong, his wife of two years, and his eight-month-old son in a frame on his desk. Since Cynthia worked a day job, he hadn’t seen her or his son since the previous Sunday.

 

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